


everyday i (shouldn't) want you more than anyone else

by hxt_pxckts



Category: TREASURE (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Best Friends, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn, asahi just wants to art, gratuitous cameos to satisfy my multistan heart, jaehyuk doesn't want to be single, some beta so we only kinda die y'know, yes junghwan is super king cow baby but in the most unconventional way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 42,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26230033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hxt_pxckts/pseuds/hxt_pxckts
Summary: “You’re the living embodiment of second lead syndrome,” Asahi concludes.Jaehyuk pulls his hands away from his mouth and stares at him. “What do you mean?”He gesticulates his hands in wonder. “You’re the guy in every drama all the viewers love and adore, but just get sad whenever they don’t end up with the main lead." Then he points back at himself. "Me, I'm viewers."---alternatively: Asahi watches his best friend Jaehyuk accidentally set couples up with his confessions.
Relationships: Choi Hyunsuk/Park Jihoon, Hamada Asahi/Yoon Jaehyuk, Kanemoto Yoshinori/Happiness, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 75
Kudos: 305





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first time writing in the Treasure tag, and I've been following these humans since Treasure Box. I'm so happy for them, and their soon to arrive comeback (after less than a month (?) YG's management do be stepping up).
> 
> I hope you enjoy!!

The midday sun shines into the high school classroom. Semi-opaque blinds dampen the beams’ intensity, just enough to allow a cool glow in the space. It’s break time, but Hamada Asahi sits alone in the classroom, his best friend nowhere to be found. Yoon Jaehyuk finally appears fifteen minutes later, plopping down in front of him. The artist doesn’t bother looking up from his tablet. 

The atmosphere in between them is mostly quiet until he hears the other’s deep exhale of customary defeat. 

Asahi’s voice rings softly, almost blending into the air as well as the pigments onto his screen. “Did you get rejected again?” In his peripheral view, he sees the dark head of hair slump down, taking over almost half of the table. Asahi pulls away just enough to accommodate the young man’s long limbs.

Jaehyuk’s hand wraps gently around his elbow, gratefully the one without the stylus in hand, and shakes it, projecting his distress. 

“Hey,” Asahi jokes, taking a moment to tap his head with the back of his stylus. The elder slowly raises his head. Once Asahi’s sure they’ve captured his friend’s attention, his arms move around robotically, punctuating each word they say, “I’m supposed to be the quiet one.” The gestures earn him a wide grin.

Instead of sinking back down, Jaehyuk rests his hand against his face. It squishes his cheek but not in a way that distorts his features; it makes him look softer, cuter even. Satisfied with the other’s change in demeanor, Asahi returns to his art. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles.

“Who was it this time?”

“Kanemoto Yoshinori.”

Asahi can’t stop his eyebrows from rising, but he tries to concentrate on shading this plane right. “Are we talking about the same Yoshinori? The really smart one in the grade above us?”

The elder nods.

“We go to the same art academy,” he explains, “Doesn’t seem like the dating type.” He’s pretty close with Yoshi, both being Japanese exchange students and riding very similar cultural wavelengths. (It’s nice having someone who will understand your absurd word puns and shares similar obscure tastes in art.)

Jaehyuk groans, “He’s straight.”

Asahi jokingly crinkles his nose. “Disgusting,” 

His friend whacks him lightly on the head. “Stop it, all the straight people can hear you.”

He tears his gaze away from his work for just a moment and mimics him teasingly, “sToP iT, aLL tHe sTraiGhT pEoPLe cAn hEaR yOu.” He laughs and, just to be a little shit, slaps his cheeks endearingly, until Jaehyuk circles his arms around his wrists. Although he’s much stronger, Asahi shakes his way out of the grip. “I mostly interact with you, Jae, it’s fine. If they get offended, they can’t take some social commentary shrouded in a subpar joke.”

His eyes dart around nervously, at what Asahi is pretty sure are the zero pairs of eyes staring at the two of them, “But friends.”

“You’ve said this since we were kids,” Asahi sighs, “My introverted ass could really not give a single shit. But you, my favorite extroverted buddy, can fly,” he brings his arms out and flaps them dramatically, causing Jaehyuk to snicker a little bit.

Asahi cleans up the edges of their picture, that of the customary desk in front of him. The top is always full of papers and whatever textbook he needs for the class he’s in. It doesn’t matter the subject, the paper covers are always bent and torn (his English one has a hole in the middle, and Asahi hasn’t bothered asking about it because he doesn’t think he’d truly understand how). The plain shoulder backpack, the one they’d given Jaehyuk on his sixteenth birthday, rests limply at the foot of the desk. Revealed by the chair that’s never tucked in are the seemingly endless balls of bread wrappers and banana milk boxes.

“Are we going out for food after school?” Jaehyuk asks. It’s more like a cute request, but at this point, Asahi can’t really tell the difference. 

He starts to fill in the base colors. “You got rejected, so I kind of have to don’t I?”

When Asahi was twelve, he’d just arrived in Korea, barely able to communicate and intrigued by the change in scenery. Sure, cities didn’t differ much from country to country, but it was novel. His sister had just gotten into one of the best grad school programs in the world for her major, and decided to kidnap (i.e. take with the very reluctant permission of their parents) Asahi with her. 

Interestingly enough, his general dislike of social interactions helped him integrate much better. Rather, he became easily accustomed to people not approaching him. It gave him more time to dig his nose deep into sketchbooks and slowly draw the things around him. 

Then, someone filled the empty space next to him.

After oh, so awkwardly, confessing to a girl in their classroom, his original seatmate, Jaehyuk decided that the quiet kid with their hand constantly moving over a piece of paper, sitting at the back of the class was a much better alternative.

Asahi had heard bits and pieces of what happened. Jaehyuk admitted that he liked her in front of the whole class, but she rejected him. When he asked why, because social rules were that much looser at their age, she immediately blanked, not meeting his eyes.

He’d asked if she liked someone else. She paused, and then gradually shook her head. However, her gaze landed on one of their classmates, in particular, the class president, staring at them inquisitively from the front of the room. Like a fish, her mouth opened and closed. 

Moments later, she would say that she did like someone and coolly sit down. (Pretty rough for a thirteen-year-old, Asahi realizes, looking back at it now)

Yoon Jaehyuk was a talkable, to the point of irritable, boy. But even at this age, there were girls who adored his face, charisma, and personality. He was the class’s vice president and personable with everyone.

Except for Asahi.

Upon reaching the new seat, he’d ask him what he was drawing, and how he was doing in rudimentary Japanese. If the elder had been persistent in his native language Asahi would’ve ignored him, just out of a genuine inability to understand him. Even back in Osaka, he ignored people like him, because that kind of open personality always overwhelmed him.

For the first few days, he hadn’t spoken to Jaehyuk, but that did nothing to dampen his efforts. The class vice president went so far as to help him with their literature classes, trying their best to explain what was happening with vague hand gestures, bad drawings, and even worse Japanese. As much as Asahi doesn’t want to admit it, his persistence had gradually picked away at the walls he built up. 

That’s why he thinks their relationship grew quite naturally, purely from intention.

** **** **  


Asahi isn’t the best with empathy, so instead of pacifying the heart, he aims for the next best thing; the stomach. The meat cooks quietly, the artist paying more attention to the sizzling rather than the chattering patrons behind him. Jaehyuk attempts to beatbox to the nonexistent rhythm, while he accompanies him with the taps from a ballpoint pen.

It’s always so sad whenever Jaehyuk gets rejected. But he never pushes it, except for middle school because that was then, and just accepts that the person he liked is simply happier with someone else. He definitely deserves someone that reciprocates his feelings; Asahi could imagine the joy on his face.

If their life was a drama, Jaehyuk could be the main character. Good grades, a nice face, and the charisma of a class vice president (nobody could ever beat Jeon Somi, or Lee Daehwi, or Ham Wonjin). Never asks to be paid back for anything. Has the personality of an excited puppy. He’s athletic, sweet, and just a generally good person.

Is he too perfect?

“You’re the living embodiment of second lead syndrome,” Asahi concludes.

Jaehyuk pulls his hands away from his mouth and stares at him. “What do you mean?”

He gesticulates his hands in wonder. “You’re the guy in every drama all the viewers love and adore, but just get sad whenever they don’t end up with the main lead." Then he points back at himself. "Me, I'm viewers."

He ponders the possibility for a moment. That’s what he thinks at least. All Asahi can see is him picking up some meat and wrapping it in lettuce. “You think so highly of me, Mada,” he finally says.

He claps his hands in front of his face. “Yoon Jaehyuk.”

He smiles cheekily at the sound of his name and does the same, the sound ringing much louder than he’d expected, and startling himself as well as some of the people around them, “Hamada Asahi.” 

“You better appreciate yourself. Every time you enter a room, even if you’re five minutes late, you greet everyone like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It makes people smile, like wow is that impact I see? And not to mention I can’t count on one hand how many times companies have approached us whenever we leave school to be an actor or model or something that actively uses your face.” And he continues hyping him up as much as he can, which isn’t very difficult, to be honest. By the time he’s done with his spiel, Asahi is standing up, pointing in random directions, and Jaehyuk is just taking the food off from the grill.

But the elder is smiling. “But that isn’t the case this time.”

“An outlier,” he reasons. Before Asahi can continue, Jaehyuk stuffs a piece of meat into his mouth, forcing him to continue in a slightly garbled tone, “But you remember Nayoung from middle school. I can’t believe she ended up with Youngbin.”

“They’re next-door neighbors. And still together,” Jaehyuk points out, “Plus, I realized I wasn’t attracted to women.”

Asahi can’t help the groan that escapes his mouth, “I’m just trying to hype you up, please let me complete my best friend obligations.”

He laughs. “Okay fine.”

“Let’s not forget about Choi Hyunsuk.”

** **** **  


The man was a senior, an unconventional one to say the least. He was planning on not going to college, instead opting to join an entertainment company, and Jaehyuk found that extremely poetic. Asahi definitely mentioned the restrictions of trainee contracts like 1) not being able to date in the first place and 2) blatant homophobia, but his best friend hadn’t really cared. 

Being the extremely sociable person he was, the elder man very easily integrated himself into the friend group. Asahi stuck well to Bang Yedam, one of Hyunsuk’s friends. Both being producers, he wanted to check out the other’s work. While Asahi was exchanging SoundCloud accounts and sharing tips with Yedam, Jaehyuk had somehow convinced Hyunsuk he was a rapper and that they should collaborate. And when Hyunsuk, who so happened to be a songwriter, asked if he produced, Jaehyuk immediately defaulted to Asahi, saying that he helped on that front.

So, the senior invited Asahi to his recording studio, alongside Jaehyuk, which immediately set off a bunch of alarms in his head. This was supposed to be a cute date for him and Hyunsuk, and Asahi didn’t want his presence to destroy the mood.

(This is what happens when he, Jaehyuk’s rationality filter, blanks out for five minutes.)

It was weird for Asahi to try and shape him into a performer, especially with the lack of previous experience, but he likes to think he was pretty successful.

“Those scouts were right to see potential in you,” he commented while trying to incorporate him on some of his tracks. They’d squeezed into his room, in the corner where the makeshift studio was. Asahi had his keyboard, piano, and soundboard around him with headphones hugging his head. It took all too long in his opinion, but eventually, Jaehyuk’s voice was smoothly sewn into his work. Throughout the process, the artist noticed his best friend didn’t have much of a range, but his deeper tone was a good contrast to Asahi’s airy voice.

The whole afternoon, Jaehyuk was buzzing with excitement. “Do you think he’ll like me?”

Asahi stared at his best friend and flicked a ball of paper, some rejected lyrics, at him. “Of course. He’d be crazy not to.” He immediately tried to charge him and pull him into a hug. Asahi ran around until his very unathletic body gave out and he was caught in the elder’s arms.

The day of, he ended up sitting next to a guy around Hyunsuk’s age, later introduced as Jihoon, his close friend and fellow trainee. Asahi’s worry for Jaehyuk lessened but then intensified for himself because he really did not want to be set up on a blind date.

But he also wanted Jaehyuk to have an opportunity for love, so he sucked up their pride for a bit and tried to entertain the idea. Jihoon tried to talk to him a little bit, and the artist acted as amicable as they could, but for the most part, he focused on what he was drawing. On the couch next to them where everyone had haphazardly thrown their belongings, a strawberry cow plushie sat on its side on top of a worn khaki jacket. 

Before coming, Asahi had taken Jaehyuk to the arcade in order to soothe his nerves. He’d accidentally won a stuffed animal at one of the claw machines, but the pink animal’s scent was all too suffocating. Luckily Jaehyuk adored it and volunteered to bring the cow home with him. His new companion lessened his worries significantly, to Asahi’s relief. When they first entered the studio, Hyunsuk had visibly cooed at the sight of it, which seemed to be a bright green flag. 

Big whoopsy doo, after an hour or two of occasional feedback and minimal surveillance of what was happening, particularly the way Jihoon’s gaze never left Hyunsuk and somewhat vice versa, Asahi realized that maybe the situation wouldn’t be as perfect as he’d thought.

He almost warned Jaehyuk about it because of what had happened last time with Nayoung. But that would be way too much of a coincidence.

Right?

With an optimistic mentality, Asahi had quietly watched his friend confess behind the glass of the recording booth. He’d been hoping for the best, maybe that Hyunsuk would see some compatibility with him. 

Jihoon’s eyes widened slightly at the sight, but he immediately froze up. His hands found the edge of the table with a grip all too strong, all while staring emotionlessly into the space between the two men. Hyunsuk’s smile morphed into an open circle. His head moved up and stared shocked at Jaehyuk’s face.

This time he didn’t bother asking why, but stood there quietly and waiting for an answer. His eyes never left the rapper. On the other hand, Hyunsuk seemed to be searching for the answer on Jaehyuk’s face. But then his gaze landed on the now shut down Jihoon and he, without hesitation, burst out of the booth to reach him.

Jihoon barely looked up and just told him to answer the poor kid. Hyunsuk deflected, asking him what was wrong. And Jaehyuk stared a little forlornly through the window at the two of them. 

So like the little ghost he was, Asahi slipped past the two of them and took a spot next to Jaehyuk. His intention was to give the two friends privacy, but Hyunsuk, who was caging his friend against the soundboard, had his arm pressed against that button, the one intended to talk to people in the booth, the whole time.

Jihoon, after insisting everything was great, started trying to convince Hyunsuk to say yes to Jaehyuk by highlighting everything great about him. Asahi mentally agreed but could feel the direction it was going in, and couldn’t bring himself to kill Jaehyuk’s hope. Hyunsuk seemed to agree with Jihoon’s points, yet he insisted that he couldn’t like him.

“He’s perfect,” Jihoon concludes, “You said it yourself.”

Hyunsuk paused, squeezing his hands together and bracing them against the back of his head, obviously deep in thought. 

“But.”

“But?”

“He just doesn’t feel like the right guy.”

Jihoon asked why both curious and surprised. There’s a long, and very tense silence before Hyunsuk continues.

“He isn’t you.”

Asahi nodded to himself, innately already knowing things were headed in this direction, but could never have predicted how stereotypical it would be. So he gagged, trying to get a reaction out of Jaehyuk. The young man just gave him a small, defeated smile.

So the artist took the other’s arm and pushed the door open, maybe a little louder than necessary. Both men had immediately whipped around to look in their direction. While making an excuse for what was going on (that they had to pick up Jaehyuk’s nonexistent dog from the vet), Asahi collected all of their things. He tucked the stuffed animal securely under his friend’s arm and draped the jacket over his shoulders.

Hyunsuk muttered out a weak apology, and Jihoon looked mortified. If they weren’t still friends, Asahi would have beaten his ass a long time ago.

** **** **  


“I should’ve realized,” Jaehyuk reasons.

Asahi rolls his eyes. “I don’t think they were that transparent, Jae.” He slams his hands on the table. “Second lead syndrome.” His best friend attempts to pacify them with more food, but he swats the chopsticks away. 

“Jihoon probably treats him better than I ever could,” The other sighs, feeding himself instead. “I just wanna be loved.” His words are muffled with a full mouth.

He reaches over to squish his cheeks endearingly. “You are, you dumbass.”

“But like a boyfriend kinda love.”

“Sounds dumb.”

Jaehyuk scoffs at the comment. “You’re biased because you’ve never liked someone.”

“Humans are stupid creatures,” Asahi states, “They’re hard to like.”

Eyes wide and shining, the elder leans over the hot plate, hands cupping his face. “Including me?”

The artist waves him off, expression twisted in fond annoyance. “Stop fishing for compliments. You know the answer to that.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s one more thing that Asahi wishes the other would just grow out of; his baseless pining. While his adoration for him is endless, his wallet is suffering every month with how often he pays for these meals. It’s at this point, Asahi’s trying to reverse psychology the younger out of emotionally hurting himself with banana milk. For every day he doesn’t pine over a guy, he’ll give him a bottle the next morning, on their way to school. 
> 
> It’s been about a month in and Asahi thinks the process has been pretty successful. 
> 
> The keyword is “thinks.” Or now, "thought".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank all of you for so much positive feedback! i hope you like this chapter!!

Old habits die hard for Jaehyuk. 

But it’s not a totally bad thing.

Like whenever their class plays dodgeball, and they’re on opposing teams, all Asahi has to do is shoot the other a look and he’ll gently toss the ball against his arm, no questions asked. And to display his gratitude, there’s always some kind of outlandish gesture whenever he’s thrown out.

This time Asahi made a heart with his arms as he dramatically twirled off the field in uncoordinated leaps. Even as the artist walked away, he could hear Jaehyuk’s loud peals of laughter. 

On the benches, where all of the other people who had been eliminated circle around to gossip, Asahi opts for a more comfortable and less sociable activity, sketching. He has AirPods in his ears. Although they’re already dead, it’s an amazing way to not get people to talk to him. Every so often, he tears his gaze away from his drawing to watch his best friend sprint around the dodgeball field, carrying his team.

His hand moves easily over the paper, starting to take the shape of the objects Jae left next to him. His shoes are almost never cleaned unless accidentally bathed in dirt or when Asahi threatens to kill him about the filth, whichever comes first. They're nothing special, just plain athletic shoes. Sometimes, on the white bases, Asahi likes to draw small things in black marker like a good ol’ gay symbol, hearts, stars, quotes, and the occasional swear word. Jaehyuk likes propping his feet on his desk; this is his punishment

Asahi doesn’t have to think to know that the socks crumpled into the mouths of the shoes are blue, as they are every Friday. After Jaehyuk had come out to a larger part of the student body, there were still some morons who hadn’t believed him. So, to make a statement, Jaehyuk decided wearing pride socks was a great idea. However, rainbow socks were a hard commodity to find in a traditionally heterosexual country, so he decided on cycling through the colors instead. Asahi mentioned that no one would be able to see his socks because of school rules. Seeing it as a challenge, the elder rolled his pants up to mid-calf for a whole week. It was a lot of detentions, but he’d claim it was worth it to prove his point. 

The teacher insisted that Jaehyuk leave his shoes on, but he’d just say, as he did every time the class played dodgeball, that his bare feet ensured more traction over the grass. Next to them, is a plain electric orange bottle, one that Asahi had given him as a joke when he’d come back from Japan a few years back. Jaehyuk’s been using it since.

Again, not bad habits. A bit eccentric, but these were all endearing things that make Jaehyuk, Jaehyuk. 

Opinions definitely vary. Like generally, everyone would say his determination to do well during every exam period and becoming more antisocial than Asahi, which is a feat in itself, is commendable. But Asahi hates it. 

And it got worse with the CSAT.

** **** **  


While one hand is preoccupied, drawing the half-empty cup of banana milk in front of him and Jaehyuk’s fidgety hands wrapped around it, his other brings a cold americano to his mouth, teeth chewing on the top of the straw, deep in thought. Asahi isn’t sure what’s with the lighting, but he really can’t find the right shade of yellow. 

He has successfully dragged the elder out of his bedroom where he’d been taking refuge after school almost every day for the past month. Asahi’s texts, which he’s so used to being answered immediately, take hours for singular words. There are no bad jokes or dumb memes, and it’s bringing his mood down.

Jaehyuk starts to gingerly stir the ice at the bottom of his cup, causing the artist to curse under his breath. Even with his murmurs, he can hear the elder’s quiet question. “Have you started looking at the prep books at least?”

Asahi slowly shakes his head, continuing with his drawing.

“You’ll let me tutor you, right?” 

This newfound obligation to help Asahi with every single subject even when he insists such assistance is unnecessary, is an unnecessary evil, at least in his opinion. His sister yelled at him last year for it, blaming his pride, which was probably true, but he’s not going to admit that.

“A lot of my applications are portfolio-based,” he explains for the umpteenth time, “So my CSAT score can go yeet itself.”

“It won’t take too much effort on my part,” Jaehyuk reasons.

“You could be studying.”

“But if I can teach it to you, that just shows how much I know it.”

Asahi just stares at his best friend. His logic isn’t wrong, but he just doesn’t want the help.

The elder pouts, “Please.”

“I should be working more on my portfolio pieces,” he gestures down to his tablet, invisibly filled to the brim with drafts, “Not studying.”

Jaehyuk’s worried expression deepens, “But your practice exam scores haven’t been up to par with what the schools want.” Asahi opens his mouth to say something, but his friend continues to talk, “Mada, I don’t have a single doubt in my mind that you’ll dazzle these schools with your artwork. You know how much I adore it.”

“But you're not a college judge,” he points out, earning him a light slap to the top of his head.

“And if they don’t take you,” Jaehyuk continues, “the school doesn’t deserve you.”

Asahi cracks a smile. He doesn't look up, trying to mimic the gentle shine of melted ice, but continues the conversation, “So if the school hates my current CSAT score, just dip?”

His response initiates a groan from the elder. Jaehyuk’s hands rest around Asahi’s wrists, stopping him from drawing. “No. Take me seriously.” When their gazes level, his best friend continues]. “With phys-ed, things are pretty similar for me; I need to do really well on my practical exam, but I don’t want my efforts to go to waste with a low CSAT score. And I know you don’t want schools to knock you out just for a shitty test score. Especially for Soyeon University.” His grip tightens a bit, “You know, the one that we both want to get into? You need at least ten more points to even qualify for a screening.”

Asahi wrings his lip between his teeth. The two of them have always talked about going to Soyeon together, moving into an apartment, and enjoying their lives in the much faster-paced city. 

“I can do it by myself,” he insists.

Jaehyuk looks in no way convinced. “If you’ve moved up in rank, even just one place, after this last practice exam, I won’t ask about it again.”

“Fine,” Asahi concedes, feeling that that was probable. He was one of those students who stayed in the same five-place range. There was a good chance he’d gone up.

Twenty hours later, the two students stand in front of the results, one with a smug grin and the other slumped down in defeat. Asahi nearly falls to his knees while attempting to convince Jaehyuk that this is a terrible idea and that it’s just a waste of his time but the elder has essentially put him on mute.

It’s a slow process in the beginning. Jaehyuk drags him back to his place after school, but that doesn’t work, because according to his best friend there’s too much of a non-studying connotation with the area. So they go back to the cafe where the bet was originally made. 

As much as he adores the elder, he’s a helicopter in person form. He’d essentially abandoned everything he was studying to ensure Asahi was on par with him.

“Jae, you have to actually study.”

“But this is studying.”

“You dumbass. You’re just trying to avoid philosophy and ethics!” Asahi retorts, nearly whacking him over the head with his workbook.

As time passes, slowly creeping up to their exam date, the artist feels like he has way too many similar sketches ranging from half-empty glasses, stacks of books topped with the same wire-framed glasses, and empty bottles of banana milk. But they aren’t meaningless doodles. Sure, it’s a bit repetitive thematically, but he admires its simplicity.

With time, genuine gratitude for the elder gradually loosens his pride’s grip on his mind. It takes Asahi over a month of intensive learning and rising into the next decile, to make him realize that he did need Jaehyuk. (In his heart, he knows it’s something that’s always been true, but, again, Asahi will never openly admit to it.) 

Instead, the day after they take one of the exams and he doesn’t feel like he shot blindly at all the answers, Asahi treats him to a meal, as if he’d been rejected by another guy.

“I haven’t liked anyone in months,” Jaehyuk states, somewhat teasingly.

“I wonder why," Asahi deflects. "You've literally been spending all of your time with me, and not around other guys to haplessly fall in love with."

Plus, the more personal learning saves time he’d usually spend having existential crises about calculus functions or historical events is used to pinpoint the theme of his portfolio. 

It’s the night before their exam and they’ve holed themselves up in Jaehyuk’s bedroom. The elder had said his psychological space argument, but Asahi waved him off, arguing back that he had a more comfortable bed.

“TIE,” he tells him.

Jaehyuk immediately makes grabby hands at Asahi, wanting to see the pieces, but he holds the tablet back.

“We have to study,” he reasons, a bullshit excuse that Jaehyuk probably sees through, even if he won’t say anything about it, “If we get into Soyeon together, I’ll show you.”

** **** **  


Asahi’s not really paying attention to the game, just knowing athletic boy move fast. At least the elder will allow himself some relief from studying through ball games. He likes justifying it as preparation for his physical exam (increasing stamina, training, etc.), which may be true, but all the artist can see is the wide grin on the other’s face. 

AHe does, however, find himself tuning into the conversations around him whenever he hears Jaehyuk’s name being mentioned. For the most part, the comments aren’t atypical, mostly compliments; praising his visuals, swooning over his charisma, commending his intelligence, etc. And the occasional, “it’s a shame he’s gay,” comment that forces Asahi to stare menacingly in the direction it came from. But then something, in particular, catches his attention.

There’s one more thing that Asahi wishes the other would just grow out of; his baseless pining. While his adoration for him is endless, his wallet is suffering every month with how often he pays for these meals. It’s at this point, Asahi’s trying to reverse psychology the younger out of emotionally hurting himself with banana milk. For every day he doesn’t pine over a guy, he’ll give him a bottle the next morning, on their way to school. 

It’s been about a month in and Asahi thinks the process has been pretty successful. 

The keyword is “thinks.” Or now, "thought".

The next comment he hears asks if anyone heard about Jaehyuk’s confession to Kim Doyoung, a second-year at their school, and Yedam’s best friend. At first, Asahi gives his best friend the benefit of doubt, that he misheard it as Jaehyun because there’s a lot of those at their school, and that Doyoung is just a really charming second year.

Although, recently, he and Yedam have been stuck to the hip much more than usual. The younger gradually opened up to the elder’s forms of affection and going so far as reciprocating them. Asahi pinned it on coincidence and that the two were moving towards realizing their feelings for-

The situation had Jaehyuk’s name written all over it. And his suspicions are confirmed, when someone clarifies, asking if she was talking about the vice president of Class 5.

Old habits die hard for Jae, Asahi tells himself, as he adds details to the bench next to him and tries to perfect the textured surface.

“He’s been showing up at my dance studio lately," she continues, "And I’ve never seen him dance before. Last week I forgot my bag and ran back to get it. I saw him and Doyoung standing outside.”

So those were the “things he had to do.” They usually go to the library to study, but Jaehyuk’s been ditching lately. Asahi never asked the other because he didn’t think it was any of his business. Although thinking about it now, he does tend to stay true to prior commitments. But past performance doesn’t necessarily equate to present actions, he tells himself while delicately shading the loose shoelaces.

“And I heard Doyoung say that he didn’t feel the same way.”

Asahi moves onto the dent on the water bottle. But, even if he feels a bit lied to, he wishes he could’ve been there to counsel him uselessly.

“What about?” There’s a slight pause of silence.

“Hanada wasn’t there, surprisingly.”

She’s definitely talking about him. People like to joke that he’s Jaehyuk’s shadow because they're always seen together, and because he isn't as popular he's reduced to being his customary follower. Which sounds so codependent and clingy; he hates it. Plus, she said his last name wrong. Like Asahi’s pretty sure they’d been in the same class since middle school. He’s about to correct her, but a hand on his shoulder stops him. 

“It’s Hamada, not Hanada.”

He looks up to see a very sweaty Jaehyuk stare at the group behind him. Amidst the quiet chorus of somewhat genuine apologies, his best friend’s hand moves in front of his face and presents itself as an open invitation, that he should take it.

When they’re standing up, Asahi bows at his classmates in brief acknowledgment before dragging Jaehyuk away by the hand.

“I thought Yedam would’ve been more your type,” he mentions when they're out of earshot.

Jaehyuk’s grip loosens slightly, confirming everything Asahi heard. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Asahi doesn’t respond until they enter their now empty classroom.

“I’m not angry,” he reassures, “Just a little bit disappointed at how much banana milk you mooched off of me.” It’s all in good fun, trying to boost Jaehyuk’s mood at least a little bit. But it doesn’t seem to work.

Asahi laces their hands together and swings them lightly. “Jae,” he sings, “I just want you to be content with yourself without a man in your life. Companionship is overrated.”

Jaehyuk nods a little bit. “But we’re companions.”

“Look at me,” Asahi begins. He waits until the elder complies. “Humans are, yes, dumb but they also need relationships to flourish, and not necessarily romantic ones. Between the two of us,” he points back and forth to reference each other, “We are one of those critical bonds. But it’s just platonic. Even me and my 3% extroversion can admit that.”

Jaehyuk smiles a bit at that. “What big words from such a small human.”

“Excuse me?” 

His best friend's hands pull away from Asahi’s grip and move to hold him close to his chest. He rests his cheek on top of his head. Asahi isn’t one for physical affection, so he tries to wiggle out of the position to no avail.

“My favorite tiny human,” he reiterates.

“That doesn’t make it much better,” he mumbles into his shirt. And Jaehyuk laughs, which prompts Asahi to laugh. Eventually, he gives in, admitting the comfort of their position and his arms gradually wrap around the elder’s torso to return the squeeze.

After what feels like not enough time, their moment is abruptly interrupted when someone screams, “Now kiss!”

Standing on the tips of his toes, Asahi can barely see Park Jeongwoo’s shit-eating grin over his friend’s shoulder. Jaehyuk has turned around to do the same. If it were anyone else, Asahi knows that his stare would conclude their conversation. But Jeongwoo is a prideful little fucker. Yoshi was not wrong in asking Asahi to be his surrogate parent at their high school. They relate to each other so well. But it’s also why at times they hate the second year so much. (insert ironic but relatable self-hate joke here)

So, as expected, his pride takes the wheel. Without hesitation, Asahi plants a soft kiss on Jaehyuk's cheek. When he pulls back, he can see the look of surprise on not only the younger’s but also Jaehyuk’s face. He sends him a small, unapologetic smile. The expression quickly morphs into a glare as their gaze shifts to a surprised Jeongwoo.

“Go tell Haruto you like him or something,” he retorts, sitting down at his desk seat.

** **** **  


By the way, they do get into Soyeon together.

However, their mutual joy also seems to erase any memory of Asahi’s promise. In the last days as seniors, they have mini picnics in the soccer field and thank their teachers in acceptable manners (the artist has to stop his best friend from pranking ‘out of love’).

For senior pictures, they dress up as Teletubbies with Yang Jeongin, Jeon Somi, and Lee Daehwi, but there are only four Teletubbies. So Asahi ends up being the Baby Sun, which he kind of despises until Jaehyuk insists he looks great, and even then there’s much doubt. The elder attempts to carry him, so he’s actually like the sun in the sky. After the picture’s taken, his knees buckle, and he topples to the ground, Asahi on top of him. (That picture’s on their photo wall in the apartment to this day)

He buys him, and the rest of their friends, dinner after that too. 

And then they had their graduation ceremonies, paired with a lot of flowers and food, overwhelming all of the senses. Asahi’s parents had flown in from Japan, so of course, all of his attention was on them, and sometimes Jaehyuk when the time permitted.

They’d met the elder over video call on occasion, but after meeting him in person, his parents endlessly praised his Japanese skills and thanked him for befriending Asahi. His older sister carried some of the translation, but Jaehyuk was doing pretty well, with all of the anime he’d been coerced into watching and the shit talk Asahi has with him. 

It was just a lot and weirdly satisfying seeing how approving his parents were of his friend choices. 

(At least his parents have taste.) 

When they move into their apartment together, Asahi indirectly fulfills his promise by hanging up some pieces of the collection onto the walls of the apartment. The elder recognizes them as his style but doesn’t say anything about it. And even after school starts, Jaehyuk doesn’t ask about the pictures in great detail, just observing things that he recognized, like their schoolyard, the one barbecue place they liked, and two pairs of familiar, well-decorated shoes.

Asahi doesn’t need to go around explaining why he drew what he drew; the images can speak for themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for taking the time to read this!1
> 
> author's note (09/11/20): so, i was watching treasure map ep 16 and realized that jaehyuk really does take his shoes off to move faster. i'd like to say, this was not known while writing the chapter, and i came to write this note to let everyone know that,, i am telepathy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is he, Hamada Asahi, truly a well-functioning adult who is capable of requesting collaborations in a professional setting? Yes, of course, he is. But, he’s also not stupid.
> 
> With his eyes, or maybe just a good sense of his best friend patterns, he noticed the way his expression had lit up at his singing and settled into that all too familiar dreamy expression.

Although being in two, radically different majors, Asahi and Jaehyuk end up in the same section of a required seminar. The class is intended to let first years interact with each other, naturally, make more friends, and learn how to socially acclimate to campus, but because he doesn’t really need any of the offered benefits, the artist defaults to drawing on his tablet and somewhat listening to what goes on. Jaehyuk sits next to him, absorbing all the information, even though he’s a master at befriending people.

Their teacher is one of the general advisors for the student community. She’s nice, but there’s not much to pick out about her; it’s their TA who really attracts everyone.

On the first day of classes, Kim Geonhak sat a little way off from their professor, gaze steely and focused. When told to introduce himself, he stood authoritatively at the front of the class, somewhat intimidating and incredibly unapproachable.

“College guys really are different,” Asahi teases Jaehyuk. The elder nods, more engaged in the content (which was really just a repeat of the syllabus) than his words.

However, that facade quickly fades away by itself. “After a few semesters of doing this, I realized that I have to just say this,” he prefaces with a laugh, allowing an inviting smile to form on his face, “But I’m not as scary as I look, I promise. So please feel free to contact me about any issues you’re having on campus. I’ll be happy to help.”

The TA continues, saying that he’s a fourth-year early childhood education major minoring in music, more specifically vocal performance. His voice rumbles in a deep baritone, immediately intriguing Asahi and making him wonder what he sounded like when singing. He has also gotten sick of his own voice for the time being and really wants to mix things up. 

Within a few days, his wish is fulfilled when one of their classmates, a transfer student (Asahi couldn’t recall his name for the life of him) insists on an impromptu performance. They’d finish their content for the day, but the professor insisted on keeping everyone to socialize. The guy had been taking his time to poke fun at the TA, and this seemed to be another one of his gimmicks. 

Geonhak seems hesitant, but an approving nod from their professor later, he relents. Much like his physical features, his voice is attractive and unique. The atmosphere becomes saturated with unexpected but welcome richness. And within seconds, Asahi concludes that he wants him to sing on one of his tracks. 

But instead of being the properly functioning adult that he is and asking him after class or sending him an email, he asks Jaehyuk to ask on his behalf. Is he, Hamada Asahi, truly a well-functioning adult who is capable of requesting collaborations in a professional setting? Yes, of course, he is. But, he’s also not stupid.

With his eyes, or maybe just a good sense of his best friend patterns, he noticed the way he had lit up at his singing and settled into that all too familiar dreamy expression. Their TA was very different from his usual type, being older, less sociable, and more mature, but that’s probably also why Asahi feels somewhat more secure about him.

“Stable,” Jaehyuk summarizes as they leave the classroom together. And he’s definitely not just talking about his voice.

Asahi immediately whacks him over the back of his head. “You can’t actually already be imagining a future with him, Jae. It hasn’t even been a week!”

“He’ll be teaching in the city when he graduates,” the elder continues, “Just imagine him with small children, Mada. And he can sing like what the fuck kind of perfection is that?” He stands in the middle of the street, and Asahi has to grab his arm and pull him forward, bowing at every passing stranger apologetically. 

“Like an angel,” he mutters only half-serious, “But you’ll do the thing for me?”

Even in his haze of admiration, Jaehyuk nods. “Of course.”

** **** **  


Asahi sits in the cafeteria with Yoshinori, a now second-year student at the same university in between classes. It’s one of those mundane, but pleasant moments that he looks forward to. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told him to ask our TA.”

Yoshi pushes an eyebrow up. “Who?”

The artist goes into a vague description of the senior. “He’s this early childhood education senior. Jaehyuk’s been fawning over him, so I told him to ask him to collaborate with me, you know so he’d have a reason to talk to him?” 

“Tall, deep voice, looks kind of like a cat?” Asahi has to think about the last point, but the first two are more than enough. “Everyone loves Leedo,” he says, “Or Geonhak, as you probably know him. Remember RAVN?”

Asahi nods slowly, the name vaguely familiar. 

His friend takes a sip of his soup before continuing. “He was one of those guys I showed you in high school. Turned out one of his friends, Lee Dongheon, went here, and I was able to set up a collaboration with him last year. Didn’t you see that?”

He shakes his head. “Probably busy with school.”

Yoshi laughs. “Yes, Jaehyuk takes up all of your time. But that’s nothing new.”

“I was actually studying,” he states.

“That’s the same thing, according to Ruto.” The artist takes a piece of chicken off of his friend’s plate, who is unsuccessful in stopping him before he sticks it into his mouth.

While he basks in his success, the elder looks slightly irritated at the loss but continues with his explanation. “RAVN and Leedo are really close. The two of them went to the same after school academy but Geonhak didn’t make it into any really good schools with his CSAT scores. So he decided to retake the test. When he failed again in the spring semester, he was about ready to give up, until Youngjo hit him up and convinced him to try one more time, with something he was really passionate about. I think he’d originally applied as a business administration major with the prospect of stability, but then switched to early childhood education.”

“And now he’s here,” Asahi concludes, having hung onto every word he was told.

Yoshi nods. “And now he’s here,” he repeats.

“Where’d you hear all of this?”

“Bits from around campus and what I’ve been able to piece together from what Dongheon and RAVN told me.”

Asahi looks down at his plate, hand mindlessly moving the chopsticks through leftover pieces of rice. “You said they’re really close.”

“From what I can see, yeah.”

“Would you say,” he pauses for a moment, not sure if he should even ask about the implication. But he does anyway, “They’re best friends?”

When he looks up, Yoshi stares at him with an unimpressed expression on his face. “Sahi,” he begins warningly.

“Okay,” he begins, “I know this is a really big jump to make, but seriously.” His friend opens his mouth to interrupt. It forces him to press a finger to his lips. “Seriously, how could you not fall for someone who helps you find your direction in life and supports you unconditionally. It sounds like RAVN was his sole motivating factor and without him, Geonhak wouldn’t be where he is.”

An unwelcome wetness and rough but also soft texture cause Asahi to retreat his finger. “That’s what you get for stealing my food, fucker,” the elder declares, “And just because Leedo might have a close friend, that doesn’t mean Jaehyuk will get rejected.”

Of course, he’s aware how irrational he’s being. “I know, but I'm just a little worried about him.”

“Jaehyuk is a big boy with big boy feelings. He’ll be fine.”

Mentally, he has to remind himself of that, because, yes, it’s true, but there’s still a personal want to protect him, to possibly prevent that from happening. And that’s what he tells Yoshi.

“You know, there’s one way you can prevent that from happening permanently.”

Asahi has no idea what he’s talking about. His quiet blinks must show that well enough.

His friend sighs exasperatedly. “Well, you know.” He folds his hands in half and presses the fingertips together in a faux kiss.

Again nothing.

“You know what?” Yoshi states, finishing off his food, collecting his things which means putting on one (1) tote bag and sticking his skateboard beneath his arm, “I’m setting you up on a blind date.” And then he walks off.

No longer sure of what to do, Asahi eats everything on his plate, puts his shoulder bag on, and immediately rushes to catch up with his friend. “Absolutely not.”

“Eventually,” he sings teasingly, “Eventually.”

** **** **  


About halfway through the semester, Asahi is walking into the apartment building’s elevator. The doors are slowly closing when he spots a sprinting Jaehyuk rushing towards him. Frantically, he presses the close door button, with the mental hope that maybe they’d move faster. 

Elevator doors do close fast, but a running Jaehyuk is faster. So it’s no surprise the elder tackles him into the wall. Even as the elevator starts moving up, he doesn’t let go of him. 

He looks down at the unwelcome arms around him and tries to shimmy them off, to no avail. 

“Please let go of me,” he requests.

“I had the required TA meeting today,” the elder declares, ignoring him.

Asahi stares confusedly at his best friend. “What?”

“The one we’re required to have in order to pass the seminar?”

“What?” he says a louder. He only feels slightly bad for the way Jae winces. 

He nods. “It was in the syllabus and everything.” Jaehyuk has to pull him out when the doors open, his body frozen in shock. “You’ll be okay. Just email Geonhak and he’ll fit you in, no problem.”

Geonhak. Jaehyuk. Talking.

“Did you ask him about the recording thing then?”

His answer is clear as he hesitates to open the door. “It might’ve slipped my mind.”

Asahi passes through the door, preparing his lecture. “That’s supposed to be the perfect way for you to instigate some on-topic conversation, Jae,” he explains, slightly exasperated, “You could’ve incorporated your minimal knowledge of music production, and then expanded into other more related topics of interest. It would’ve made for slightly quirky conversation.”

Jaehyuk laughs as he takes his jacket off. “You hate having your oddities being discussed.”

“Only when unnecessarily criticized and mindlessly teased,” He continues, all while moving his body back and forth in a poor impression of an inflatable balloon man, “And it’s you so I don’t think I would really care.”

“Are you saying I don’t mean a lot to you?” the elder retorts, throwing the bright pink cow at his face. The stuffed animal, fondly named Junghwan, has become a constant for the two of them, as much as Asahi tries to denounce his presence. Jaehyuk must have left him on the couch last night after their most recent anime binge. 

The artist doesn’t sneeze at the fabric’s scent; most of it has faded over the years, but it tickles his nose. His best friend giggles and snaps a picture of the probably ridiculous facial expression he makes. “No, it’s because I know you would never intend to hurt me, you dumbass.” He throws the animal back at him. 

Being the stupidly agile person he is, Jaehyuk catches it and immediately tries to rush him with a surprise hug. “AWWW, SAHI!!”

“No!” he yells while running away, “You know you’ve used up your affection quota for the day!”

“An accident.”

“Still counts!”

Asahi does eventually lose because he’s not athletic and that’s one of his key character traits. Luckily, however, Jaehyuk does show a sliver of mercy by not smothering him with affection, opting for just laying his head on his shoulder.

As they’re sitting there, quite peacefully in fact, Asahi pulls his phone out to type out a message to Kim Geonhak.

“You know how we’re both education majors?” the elder asks after letting him catch his breath.

“Sure.” There’s his email. 

“That was the common ground that came naturally.” He explains that they for the most part talked about the core curriculum for education majors, their TA giving advice on how to study and what to do in classes in order to excel. “He even offered to tutor me.”

“Okay, that makes sense.” Midterms destroyed him, and he ended up with the first C in his life. Asahi spent a large majority of the week holding his best friend as he ate all too much ice cream and delivery food while binging a lot of Pixar films. It wasn’t the best mindset for the elder because there were a lot of apologies. All, unwarranted apologies, something he had to constantly remind Jaehyuk. “This’ll be good for you,” he says supportively, “Be yourself and things will go perfectly.”

“That doesn’t usually work though,” the elder observes. 

Asahi sighs, feeling the familiar weight of sadness tainting the atmosphere. He takes Junghwan from the floor and puts it back in Jaehyuk’s hands so he has something to hold onto. “Give it time,” he encourages with a light pat to the leg, “You got me to appreciate you. He’d have to be out of your mind to not do the same.”

** **** **  


When he asks the senior about collaborating, Geonhak agrees to meld their required meeting with the recording session. However, Asahi can’t release it until after he’s finished with the course, which isn’t an issue at all because one week really isn’t very long. 

It’s been weeks since Jaehyuk has told him about their TA doing his job as a mentor, and he really won’t stop raving on and on about him. Sure it’s gotten progressively less, but it’s almost every other day, very generously speaking, that he hears some praise about Kim Geonhak. And while he does trust his best friend’s opinion, this is an opportunity for him to experience his perceptions more directly. 

Asahi hadn’t anticipated the schools’ studios to be so full but luckily Geonhak offered to use the one at his place a little way off-campus. Being the good TA he is, the elder attempts to make conversation with him, but being the more socially inept artist he is, Asahi barely entertains him, only giving him a few nods or blunt single word answers. Eventually, they arrive at the apartment, shrouded in awkwardness.

A man closer to Geonhak’s age opens the door as he’s twisting the key into the knob. “I didn’t think you’d be home.”

“I’m heading out right now to meet up with Hwanwoong.” He’s very pretty with both delicate and hard drawn features. The hint of trouble behind his eyes is similar to Jaehyuk’s but slightly more troublesome.

“Are you coming home, tonight then?”

He flushes red at the suggestion.

There’s a voice from inside the apartment, sweet and lilting. “I already gave him shit for it, Geonnie, just let the boy leave.”

But he doesn’t. Instead, he extends an arm out to Asahi. “I’m Kim Youngjo, or RAVN if that rings more of a bell.”

Asahi introduces himself too. He doesn’t have a stage name, but they exchange pleasantries, usernames, and quickly unpack their overlap in friends. The whole time, in the back of his head, he can't help but fixate on the fact that maybe Jae has an opportunity. Yoshi might call him crazy, but Asahi finds it to be more of a noticing of patterns/coincidences. 

Youngjo mulls on Hyunsuk’s name, proud of his progress, and compliments Yoshi’s rapping.

“It was a good cypher,” he explains, “Leedo can vouch.”

Asahi balks at the words. “You can rap too?”

“He’s amazing. Astonishing. You wouldn’t believe this man’s talent.” The producer looks like he wants to go on, until his phone rings. “Fuck, I promised I wouldn’t be late.”

Leedo briefly claps him on the back. “Go before he starts calling me too.” Youngjo runs away, waving. He bows politely at the stranger. Before stepping out of the foyer, he immediately, as one should, takes his shoes off. 

There’s a lot to take in. The inside is nothing like he’d expected. It’s not coherent at all, probably because of the many people who live there, but it still feels like a home. Posters of rock bands he personally enjoys are dark against the white walls. He spots one of Yoshi’s contemporary pieces taking up a solid third of one surface. Accenting the dark are some colorful impressionist paintings and a few graphic designs. The dark and bright contrast well. And on every other surface, there’s some type of greenery, be it a fern, a strong of coins, and a lot of ficuses. The intensity is somehow not overwhelming. 

“Hi!” the familiar voice says. A man walks out of the kitchen. His scalp is a subtle red, and there’s a pastel pink and yellow apron covering the front of his body. Embroidered on his chest is !baby, either being a badly placed backward name or from his vague computer science knowledge, denying his baby status. “I’m Lee Seoho. A grad student in the computational linguistics department.” And another, taller man pops up behind him. His features are inviting, smile infectious. He wraps his arms around the grad student’s waist and rests his head on his shoulder. “This is my boyfriend, Lee Keonhee.”

“LEECH!” someone yells deeper inside the building. 

“CAN’T YOU RESPECT ME AT LEAST A LITTLE!” Asahi amusedly watches Keonhee run down the hall and into one of the rooms. He decides to ignore the crashing sounds. 

Tuning back into the introductions, he bows briefly. “Hamada, Asahi,” the artist briskly answers, “first-year Fine Arts major.”

“Producer, too,” Geonhak adds behind him, “A friend of Youngjo’s friend said he made good stuff. Then I listened to it, and it really was good stuff.”

“You know, if he’s actually thinking of moving out with Woongie, we’re fucked.”

“Keonhee can actually live here then.”

While the roommates get lost in their conversation, he finds himself entranced by the living room’s complexity. His eyes scatter around all of the art, eventually stopping on one in particular. 

“Where’d you get that one from?” He slowly walks towards the familiar image of a line of banana milk containers, but sequentially colored to represent the pride flag. The background is marbled in lighter shades of the same color. 

“Xion brought it home when he moved in,” Seoho says, “As a house of not straights, it was a nice addition.”

He keeps walking towards it, letting his pinky trace over his signature slowly. “This is mine. It was a commission I did a while back in high school.” 

“Small world we live in, huh?” Asahi nods in acknowledgment. Seeing his art in somebody else’s home makes him feel fuzzy, and accomplished on the inside. 

Geonhak then tells them that they're wasting daylight, which is not true, but he isn’t going to argue and ushers Asahi into the studio. Better said, it’s an empty walk-in closet repurposed to be a studio. The set up is familiar, very similar to the small corner in his room, but just a little more professional. Nonetheless, he can already feel himself relaxing in the environment. 

Their work is pretty thorough. He’d already sent the track to Leedo (Geonhak says that in this environment, it’s preferable to be called by his stage name. Asahi gets the whole mindset thing, so who’s he to deny the other man’s wants) a couple of weeks ago, and now is just the time for tweaking vocals, gauging tone inflections, and any other details. He has to pitch the track down more than he expected, but besides that, everything is smooth. 

It takes a little more than an hour before things are really done. Headphones clamped over his head, and fingers hovering over the borrowed piano keys, he stares at the track, hoping something will spontaneously appear out of it. As his brain is stuck, he mentally wanders off into trying to sort out the situation.

**Private Chat between Jake and Sarah  
_16:11_**

****

****

**Sarah**  
i approve.

 **Jake**  
????

 **Sarah**  
he’s a good singer.  
and rapper.  
and seriously just nice.  
and no best friend to fuck it all up.

 **Jake**  
saaaaaaaaahi  
we’ve talked about this  
that isn’t a thing

 **Sarah**  
no, listen to me, seriously  
i think they’re all stupid for not choosing you,  
and truly, the only thing that seems to win over you and your perfection?  
extended pre-existing histories  
and this isn’t one of those cases

 **Jake**  
…  
ur being weird

 **Sarah**  
and i’m gay  
what are we doing stating the obvious?

 **Jake**  
luv you though  
many hearts

 **Sarah**  
you’re saying I’m weird just put an emoji down

 **Jake**  
but you hate emojis 🥺

 **Sarah**  
sir eye  
biggest betrayal

A light poke to the back of his head interrupts his concentration. When he turns around, he’s met with a familiar face. Leedo looks ready to shove Son Dongju (he did eventually learn the transfer student’s name) out of the room. “What are you doing here?” His hand is wrapped lightly around his wrist. The two of them stare at each other with matching expressions of shock.

And intense confusion manifests within him because what is happening?

“You’re 0sahi?” he asks. His classmate slowly pries the fingers off his wrist, which the elder doesn't argue against. What's more surprising is how he all too naturally threads their hands together.

“We’ve been classmates for the past semester,” Asahi deadpans. Leedo jerks away from the contact almost immediately and a flash of hurt passes through Dongju's expression, but it's gone as quickly as it was there.

He redirects his attention to the artist and rolls his eyes. “I meant your Instagram handle with a zero. Seoho told me you were here and I couldn’t help myself.”

Asahi immediately thanks him for his early support. Then he lets his gaze flick around; the elder seems to obviously regret his decision, and Dongju (or Xion, whatever's right) clearly is trying to avoid the other's gaze.

Nothing can really go right for Jae, can it?

** **** **  


Asahi is standing outside their classroom on the last day of their seminar. 

Finals had diluted most of his infatuation, but there were still enough lingering feelings for Jaehyuk to confess. The artist did mention his newfound discovery to him, that Dongju and Geonhak were living together and the way Dongju reached out to hold his hand but that didn’t change his perceptions at all. He said it was similar to how Asahi reacted to his moments of affection, which was true but couldn't really allude to the energy in the room without outlining it thoroughly. 

After realizing the repercussions of his actions, Dongju insisted that the two of them accidentally became roommates. He moved in the day that classes started, already having paid the deposit. Worried, Geonhak checked things out with the school and his professor, and apparently their cohabitation was okay; they just couldn’t be unprofessionally involved. And after over three months, nothing of the sort had happened. (Asahi has his doubts, but doesn’t voice them; even if he doesn’t talk to a lot of people, he’s become very good at sensing romantic tension).

After what feels like forever, he finally sees Jaehyuk walk out of the classroom, “What’d he say?”

The elder just walks into him, hooks his chin on his shoulder, and rests his arms around his waist. Asahi pets his head lightly. 

“That bad?”

“He said he had a boyfriend,” Jaehyuk murmurs. 

“You didn’t know, Jae,” he wraps his arms around the elder, giving him a comforting squeeze.

While he's looking over his shoulder, the artist spots Geonhak exiting, not without Dongju in tow. His face is bright and somewhat panicked, seeing that the younger seems to be trying to eat his fingers, but he pulls them away every time at the last second. After a few failed attempts, Dongju gives up and brings the arm down around his shoulders, looping his own around the elder’s waist. 

Sometimes, crazy is right, and this is definite proof of that. But of course, Asahi doesn’t say that to Jaehyuk. Instead, he lightly pushes the man away from him and pinches his cheeks adoringly. “Let’s go look for a new place to eat. We haven’t gone out much, and I think we deserve to treat ourselves.”

Even as they exit the building, the artist keeps talking. “This isn’t a meal of defeat, no sir. You know every time this happens.” He stomps on those last two words, “It’s just an incentive for you to get back up, get all that energy to continue your, what I think is futile, journey,” He dramatically extends an arm out, burying half of it into some foliage. The rustling disturbs a flock of pigeons, accidentally throwing the people around him into chaos.“If you really want this love, I won’t stop you.”

Asahi doesn’t think he’s done much, but when he notices the way the corners of Jaehyuk’s lips slightly raise, it calms his worrying heart a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> henlo; i'm sorry if this chapter is a lil,,, odd (?) this is unbetaed ;-;  
> i do have most of this written out, but then i looked at the original chapter three and deemed the time jump to be too big so you got this **_mess_**.
> 
> so to explain the xion/leedo (this could be an au in itself oml):  
> 
> 
> * xion and leedo developed feelings for each other while living together  
> 
> * xion pestering him in class was his way of flirting  
> 
> * leedo of course was soft to him, but it was more in the safety of their home  
> 
> * which is why xion thought it was okay to do the affection because he's shameless  
> 
> * but the ta in leedo came out so he did the panic  
> 
> * they don't make up really  
> 
> * but jaehyuk does his thing  
> 
> * leedo says the thing  
> 
> * xion still in the room asks who his boyfriend is  
> 
> * and explicitly acknowledged the feelings they've pretty much known each other had  
> 
> * boom boyfriends. 
> 
> okayokay,, thank you so much for reading!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yoshi set me up on a date tonight,” he huffs.
> 
> Jaehyuk tries to say something but fails with the deflated state of his face. After prying the artist's fingers off, and letting them rest between his own, he repeats his words. “Wait, what?”

Golden sunbeams flow through their apartments’ open windows, basking the living room and a romantic warm tone. If anyone asked, Asahi would say that this, golden hour, is his favorite time of day. He's reading a book; it isn’t for any of his classes, but Jaehyuk’s. The elder claimed that he'd probably enjoy it. The elder is right; Pedagogy of the Oppressed has been quite an interesting read. The moment is peaceful, a mental refresher for all of the calculus (general education curriculum can not exist) he's been forced to learn. 

But all of that ambiance is interrupted by one loud boy.

Jaehyuk bursts through the apartment doors, heavily panting but also shouting his name between gasps.

His eyes don’t move away from the pages in front of him. “Take your time, Jae.” 

“I asked a guy out today,” he states, very excitedly.

“We’ll get dinner tomorrow.”

After what sounds like a few footsteps, he hears Jaehyuk take a seat on the floor next to him. It’s one of the few moments the artist can see the top of his best friend’s hair. In his peripheral vision, he sees the elder lean in, whispering, “I didn’t get rejected.”

And Asahi can’t help but smile, probably dopily. “Really?” He flips the page he’s just finishing up. 

Jaehyuk nods vigorously. With the page number in mind, he puts his book down and turns to look properly at the boy on the floor. 

“Which means you’re feeding me tomorrow night?” the artist asks.

Jaehyuk pouts and asks with cheeks puffed, “Why not tonight tonight?”

Asahi lifts his arms up and slides down the couch until he’s also on the floor, next to Jaehyuk. His hand cups his face and squeezes the air out of the elder’s mouth, so he’s left with a handful of cheeks and a pair of lips pressed out like a duck’s bill. “Yoshi set me up on a date tonight,” he huffs.

Jaehyuk tries to say something but fails with the deflated state of his face. After prying the artist’s fingers off, and letting them rest between his own, he repeats his words. “Wait, what?”

“With one of his other first-year friends,” he clarifies. Asahi tries to move away from the intertwining of their fingers, but the elder keeps him in place. He struggles for a bit, but eventually gives up, letting his best friend gently hold his hand and brush lightly at the lines of his fingers. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, the ministrations are admittedly comfortable. “So no need to worry about me tonight,” he concludes.

“Who is it?”

The artist stands up and makes his way to his room, sensing Jaehyuk close behind him. “Photography major. That’s all he said.” Looking at his phone screen, he estimates he has to leave in about half an hour. 

“What are you wearing?” his roommate asks behind him.

After flipping through his clothes for a few minutes, Asahi pulls out a denim jacket and throws it over his plain sweatshirt and joggers. Realizing the latter was probably inappropriate, he sifts through a few pants before he pulls out a dark wash. He's barely able to pull them on in the dark space of his closet. “With my nice sneakers,” he announces once fully dressed. The artist turns around and poses a few times, gauging Jaehyuk’s genuine reaction behind the amusement in his eyes.

The elder scoffs from atop his bed. “Not even your boots?”

“I’m spritzing some cologne on me if that compensates.”

“Barely.” 

Asahi just waves him off. “I’m not trying to succeed, Jae.”

“Then why go at all?”

“I owe Yoshi one,” he laments. He’d bartered some important information. The second-year collaborated with another artist who went under the name mamo, but he couldn’t find the username on SoundCloud or any platform for that matter. So when he asked about him, Yoshi clarified that he wasn’t someone who shared their singing often, just doing it for fun. Asahi likes new vocalists, if his run-in with Geonhak didn’t show that enough, and he asks him for his contact information.

Thus an exchange was made. The artist deemed that a few hours of his life and some good food, according to his friend, would be a worthy sacrifice for some new texture to his tracks.

“I told you it’d happen eventually,” Yoshi had teased, satisfaction and smugness all over his face. Asahi told him to shut up and to prepare the contact information.

Jaehyuk sulks after having the details explained to him. “But free food.”

“You can go celebrate with some of your other friends,” he states, going over to plop down next to the other man.

His best friend made way too many friends at the freshman mixer. Asahi always complains when the elder stumbles into their apartment a little too tipsy for comfort, but always leaves out pain meds and makes hangover soup the next morning. He knows they exist and would probably enjoy his success as well.

“It’s kind of lame,” the elder whines, “And it’s not like I told them about my record of asking people out.”

“So what would you rather do?”

Jaehyuk lowers himself down on Asahi’s shoulder. Again, the artist tries to pull away, but the elder’s grip is firm around his chest. “Celebrate with you,” he sulks. Asahi smiles at this and his hand trails up to rest against his back, fingers quietly moving as if he was a keyboard. 

“Let’s compromise,” he proposes, “I won’t eat much tonight. And when I text you I’m on my way back, order some takeout and we can do a late-night snack.”

“Okay.” Jaehyuk’s hair tickles his neck as he nods against him. Asahi’s cheeks grow warm with fondness. He hates physical affection, but Jae is Jae, his brain reasons. They stay in that position for a little bit. The warmth is encompassing; the sunlight, paired with the blanket of a man on top of his body, slowly pulls him to sleep. 

Mid yawn, he chides him to get up. “I have to go,” he urges. Jaehyuk groans over him, throwing an arm over Asahi’s chest.

“Stay,” he whines.

Gently, he pushes the body above him, but he isn’t budging. Using all the momentum his body can generate, Asahi rolls them over, so he’s now on top of Jaehyuk. The look of shock on Jaehyuk’s face is priceless, and the artist can’t help but giggle at the expression. With a quick boop of the nose and pat of the cheek, he gets up to leave. However, there's still an arm around him. 

"I have to leave," he states.

The elder pokes one of his cheeks with his free hand and then pats it emphatically. The gesture is cute, but Asahi doesn't know what he wants until he tilts his cheek up.

Eyebrows raised in surprise, he asks, unsure, "You want a kiss?" 

Jaehyuk pouts while he nods. "Payment for abandoning me."

He considers the situation for a moment. Eventually, he just pokes the other's sides, surprising him enough to let go of him so he can rush to the door

** **** **  


Yoshinori really outdid himself with this one.

Takata Mashiho is small, which is hard to find relative to an average-sized Asahi, in the cutest way, with impish but very attractive features. When they shake hands, there’s an obvious tension between them. After they exchange names, it's not long before they realize that they both speak Japanese and fall into some comfortable conversation in their native language. 

Dialogue flows naturally between them as they talk about their home cities in Japan, their classes, tastes in music, etc. They showcase each other’s personal works, admiration clear in both of their faces. Following each other’s socials is almost immediate, and it furthers their conversation as they point out favorite works that they spot. Upon showing him his SoundCloud, the elder reveals he’s the mystery vocal on Yoshi’s recent tracks, the one Asahi’s been pestering him about letting him work with. 

To conclude, he’s perfect.

But like every other date, he ends up telling the elder that he has no intention of dating right now. Sure, Mashiho has defied probably all of his expectations, allowing him to put more faith in humanity, but there’s no romantic attraction between the two of them. Maybe if he got to know him better, but as of right now, that isn’t the case. 

The photographer stares at him, somewhat taken aback. Asahi thinks it’s a shame that this could be the last he sees of the elder, but then he breaks out into a large grin.

“That’s amazing,” he answers, “Perfect actually. Yoshi hasn’t stopped with these dates, and you’re probably the best one I’ve met so far, and I don’t mean because of you rejecting me.” He pauses, giggling to himself, before continuing. “This fucker keeps setting me up on dates with all of his friends and after Hitomi told him that I didn’t show up on our date, he’s been on my back about everything, like I can’t ditch or outright reject people. ‘Give it time,’ he says, like no, let me be single.”

Asahi laughs. “You let him do this to you?”

“What else am I supposed to say?”

“No? Reject him?”

Mashiho cradles his face in his hands, squishing his own cheeks. “He’s a convincing guy, okay.”

Their already good conversation, paired with their mutual, playful, disdain of their friend not only for his dating expert status but also as a skater (“They’re so abrasive,” Asahi whines, to which Mashiho nods in clear agreement), forms the perfect foundation for a platonic relationship, a friendship.

The elder offers to walk him home, an offer which he insists is unnecessary. Nonetheless, like the gentleman he is, Mashiho walks by his side.

“We do live in the same direction, so it’s okay.”

They’re quiet, except for the music Mashiho’s decided to play through his phone. He likes the atmosphere; it’s one he treasures whenever he’s not inspired enough to do a project, which is pretty much at some point every day. The frustration arising from that lack of creativity would tire his brain out, and eventually force him to sleep. All too often, Jaehyuk found him asleep in their living room or his bedroom, in the middle of working on something. His roommate made sure to save the files, or cover his paints and carry him to bed, never failing to lecture him the next morning.

But after a while, he felt bad for what he was making him do. Therefore, chill evening walks; if Jaehyuk is home, he’ll accompany the artist on these creative ventures to clear the mind, becoming a way for them to spend time together outside of their apartment.

Mashiho leaves his side after approximately fifteen minutes. They set up a time to work on music or just hang out again. With a brief high five, Asahi is walking away with a smile.

Almost immediately after, he stumbles into a convenience shop, searching for those customary pink and yellow barrels. The man at the counter, Junkyu, stares at him, very much exhausted. He mindlessly scans the products and hands them back to him. Asahi’s grateful for the lack of small talk. 

He slowly treks back to his apartment building and up the endless flights of stairs onto the tenth floor (the building still hadn’t fixed their elevator), quietly sipping on his strawberry milk.

When he unlocks the door to his apartment, he immediately hears notes of the anime they’re supposed to be watching together. Their coffee table is coated in much more than just a midnight snack, including multiple dishes of meat, noodles, and other tasty looking entrees. Jaehyuk has his hair pushed back with a headband, probably to prevent the inevitable collision of sauce and hair. Although he’s seated on the ground, Asahi knows he’s dressed in his pajamas, a plain shirt, and flannel pants. He looks very cozy.

“You never texted me back,” he pouts, quickly pausing the show.

Asahi recalls the promise he’d made to his friend. “And you're skipping ahead.” He shoulders his jacket off and hangs it on the coat rack. “It looks like you got everything you wanted.”

“You bought me one right?” He makes grabby hands at the bag in his hand. 

He nods, throwing the other bottle at him. Then he sits down next to his friend, tearing open a pair of disposable chopsticks. 

Jaehyuk is pensively sipping on his banana milk. “So the date went well.”

Mouth full of rice cakes, Asahi nods. “But it’s not like I have a boyfriend now,” he explains, “A friend.”

His best friend hits his back excitedly. “Aww, Mada is growing up.”

Asahi slams his body into his friend and tells him to go back two episodes to where they’re supposed to have started.

“Ask politely,” he sulks, cheeks puffed out. 

Remembering the elder’s request from earlier, he places his hands on his shoulders and presses a kiss to each side of his face. “Please?”

Jaehyuk freezes, confusion clear on his face. The artist does wait for him to regain total consciousness, but based on how red his cheeks are and the way his gaze doesn't leave, him it doesn’t look like it’s going to happen any time soon. So he pries the remote out of the other's now lax grip and rewinds the anime, himself. 

"You're welcome," he drawls teasingly. 

** **** **  


So, Asahi is surprisingly protective of his best friend. Well, "surprisingly" might not be the right word. 

Everyone knows the two of them are close, as even the students on campus figure out quickly enough. He’s done as much as he can to prevent the shadow nickname from following him, and it’s worked for the most part. No one has acknowledged him as Jaehyuk’s friend but knows him as that quiet art kid, which is somewhat of an upgrade. 

However, nobody would’ve expected the small artist wanting to beat up someone who’s over ten centimeters taller than him. 

It's 9:30 AM, much earlier than Asahi would ever be up on a Tuesday, but there he is, standing by the doors of Introduction to Education. There are a few people there as well, some being students waiting for their upcoming class and others waiting for their friends. Lingering in that group is Choi Yeonjun. That beautiful lemon headed dancer son of a bitch.

“Hi,” he greets, “You might not know me, but I’m Hamada Asahi.” 

He looks a bit taken aback. "Choi Yeonjun. Your name sounds really familiar."

"I have an art insta."

The dancer gapes at him. "Wait, I love your work!"

“Thanks. I appreciate the support," Asahi replies, pocketing his phone in his bag, "But I have a quick question for you.”

A bright grin on his face (Jaehyuk's visual taste is truly impeccable) reveals his anticipation. “Ask away.”

“So why suddenly reject Yoon Jaehyuk?”

Yeonjun’s expression falters. “Why do you need to know that?”

“I would just like to understand what has my roommate feeling like shit.”

A few days after that late-night snack, it was a night like any other, and Asahi was lacking in inspiration. Prepared to go out for a walk, he knocked on the elder’s door, asking if he wanted to join. But he said no, which never happened. He immediately pulls out the emergency key they hide atop of each other’s door frame and unlocks the usually open door.

Jaehyuk was laying down on the floor, limbs spread out, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Once Asahi stood over him, it wasn’t hard to spot the red around his eyes, and the unwiped trails of tears down his face. A few containers of banana milk, a beer, and some chicken later, Jaehyuk told him what’d happened. With an excessive amount of arm flailing and jokes he hasn’t pulled for years, Asahi’s barely able to conjure a weak smile on the elder’s face.

That night, he learned that anger can be inspiring.

Before the dancer can reply, there’s suddenly an arm wrapping around his shoulders; the panic in his eyes is more than enough of an answer. Asahi has to look up a bit more to lock eyes with none other than Choi Soobin. Their student body president.

“Who’s this Yeonjunnie?” he asks in his sweet lilt.

Asahi does the same spiel, extending his hand out and introducing himself. His eyes flit behind the taller boys, wondering where his best friend is. Yeonjun looks confused, but also slightly concerned about what might happen next. 

“You two look close.”

Soobin laughs happily. “Since middle school.”

“And the two of you are dating now?”

The taller looks down at the dancer fondly. “I’d like to think so.”

Yeonjun turns to face Soobin, slightly surprised at this. “Oh.”

Their lovestruck expressions are the last straw for him. Asahi is readying himself to pounce. How fucking likely is it that every time Jaehyuk involves himself with any relationship, someone realizes that they’re in love with someone else? It’s absurd, unbelievable. But before he can do anything about it, he’s quickly lifted off his feet, now facing a butt in a pair of jeans he’s pretty sure he saw at home. 

“Nope,” Jaehyuk declares, “We are not doing this.” He weakly pounds on the man’s back to no avail.

“I’m just trying to defend your honor you dumb shit.”

“Well you didn’t in high school or even last semester and you’re not about to start now.”

“Hi Jaehyuk,” Soobin says.

“Hey, hyung. This one didn’t say anything dumb did he?” The elder slaps his butt for emphasis.

“Yoon Jaehyuk I will actually kill you,” he threatens, but of course, he’s ignored.

“Not from what I heard,” Soobin answers, somewhat confused, “Yeonjunnie?”

The dancer is quiet.

“He asked about me, didn’t he.” More silence follows, all too confirming. Jaehyuk sighs. “I’ll see you guys later,” he says and starts walking away.

Even when he’s turned around to face the couple, Asahi sends them two middle fingers on the way out.

Jaehyuk unceremoniously drops him on the ground outside the building. But he doesn’t look incredibly angry. In fact, he links their arms together. 

“I would like to keep my friends, thank you very much.” Asahi is about to rebut how his heart was broken, but Jaehyuk beats him to it. “Even if Soobin confessed, and Yeonjun chose him over me, it’s okay. It’s just like it wasn’t meant to be.”

“You were so happy though, and the 180 made me so angry. It was like he misled you,” Asahi ponders, already heading in the direction of their favorite restaurant, “Tricked you.”

Jaehyuk pats his arm comfortingly. “You know that isn’t the case. Feelings are stupid and weird sometimes, and all you need is that little push.”

Asahi knows he’s right, but he couldn’t help the frustration and confusion that formed internally.

“I’m not mad at you by the way. You just really need to work on your social skills,” he teases, “Like fighting people in public is not the best way to make friends.”

The artist smiles at this. His palm extends upwards for Jaehyuk to take. He knows holding hands is one of the small things the elder likes to do, and he’s hoping it’ll make him feel better.

Jaehyuk looks a bit surprised. “Can I?”

Asahi unwraps their arms and lets their fingers intertwine. “I like the friends I have right now, Jae. It won’t happen again.” And they head over to get some lunch.

(That last point was a little bit of a lie. A similar situation ends up occurring with Kim Seunghun in the vocal department, and Asahi readies himself to fight Lee Byounggon, but Yoshi rescues him and insists that he really needs to figure his feelings out.

Whatever that means.)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I gotta make sure you don’t get your heart broken again,” Asahi says, “What if he has unrequited feelings for his best friend or something?”
> 
> “Mada, it’s happened only,” Jaehyuk actually has to pause to count, “three times,” he states, waving the same number of fingers in their face. “THREE.”

Asahi flops down on his bed, finally having submitted an essay he’s so sure he failed. Jaehyuk had been reminding him to finish it for weeks, especially with the amount of necessary research and drafting to perfect it but he likes to think he’s convincing enough. At least the suffering is over. For now, until next month rolls around and brings another essay to die over. 

Instead of cooling his brain down and going on a walk, or even resolving to stop his habit of procrastination (high school did teach him one thing at least), he decides to dye his hair. It’s something he’d planned on doing for a while, but impulse finally pushed him to do it. His best friend isn’t there to stop him from the probably rash decision, so within the hour, he has a full head of platinum blonde. The process isn’t too bad, but his hair has grown a bit long, forcing him to focus on slathering as much bleach as possible on all of his strands and praying to any holy entities above that it won’t come out spotty. 

But, while he’s drying out his hair with a towel after his second round of bleach, Jaehyuk comes home to find him standing in the restroom. His eyes shine inquisitively as he leans against the doorframe. “Do you like it?” he asks. 

Asahi drops the towel around his shoulders and analyzes himself in the mirror. Even with the slightly yellow tint of the lights above him, he finds the tone to be a little bright for his personal taste, but it isn’t the worst. If he wants to dye it another color, he can, even back to black. “Do you?”

Jaehyuk takes a few steps towards him, touching some of the unfortunately crispy hair. “I mean, I don’t think that matters unless you like it.”

“True.” He scrutinizes his reflection more. The taller man looks down at him, eyebrows raised in question. “But yeah,” he replies, shaking the strands out a bit. “I do.” He asks the elder to check the back of his head for any spots, to which he reassures it looks completely fine. 

When he backs away, Jaehyuk stares at him pensively and then looks down at the leftover bleach powder and developer that’s haphazardly left open in their sink. “Can you dye my hair too?” 

The artist stares back at his friend, pointing at his hair. “You know I didn’t do this for rational reasons, right?” And the elder just shrugs.

“I wanna try it out.”

Even with the scent of bleach, the alcohol permeates. “You’re tipsy,” he observes. 

Jaehyuk, a small lopsided smile on his face, wraps his arms around his waist and hugs him, letting his chin rest on his shoulder. He’s always a bit more clingy when he’s drunk, but Asahi’s too tired, being three in the morning, to do much about it and lets it happen. “But not drunk, Mada.”

The artist is hesitant, because as much fun as this sounds, he doesn’t want Jae to drill him into the ground tomorrow morning. “You promise not to be mad tomorrow?” The elder nods. “Text it to me.”

Asahi, phone in his hand, waits for the message to appear. There it is with a disgusting amount of emojis and gratuitous spelling mistakes. But it’s good enough for him. So, a few minutes later and a lot of shuffling, the two of them are in the bathtub, Jaehyuk sitting in front of him, scrolling through his phone. Resting upon his leg, Asahi’s phone is playing some calm music that juxtaposes the spontaneous atmosphere.

After two or so songs of comfortable ambiance, Jaehyuk speaks up. 

“Someone asked me out today.” Asahi’s hands, preoccupied with slathering bleach over his friend’s head, still for a moment. That’s a new one. He’s pretty sure the elder’s reputation had caught up to him, and it was becoming a valid reason to actually do the opposite. But the hesitation doesn’t last long.

“Is it somebody we know?”

Jaehyuk’s head turns around to look at him. “Kim Junkyu?” Asahi pushes him back in his proper position. The name is familiar, but he can’t place a face. 

“Maybe.”

“He’s this really handsome second year in my statistics class. That regular I was talking about.”

“The one who adds three pumps of caramel to literally everything he drinks?”

Jaehyuk laughs a little, “Yeah, but I think it’s cute.” Asahi nods to himself and crowns a plastic bag over his head. The elder has always liked oddities like himself; another reason why they’re such close friends– like attracts like.

“Sacrilegious,” he comments, “If you even do get together, he’ll die of early onset diabetes and you’d be alone before you graduate.” He tightens the knot with nimble fingers and pats the elder’s shoulders when he’s satisfied. “You’re done.”

Jaehyuk attempts to maneuver his way out of the tight space. Asahi instinctively tries to push him up, holding him by the elbows. 

“You good?” He’s glad he did because he can feel too much of the other’s weight resting in his palms. Uncoordinated fool. 

“Just gotta pee.” He quickly steps out of the bathtub and hurriedly closes the shower curtain.

“Get some water when you’re done,” he announces. 

Asahi whips his phone out and searches for Kim Junkyu on Instagram. His profile, wracked with followers, doesn’t have much besides selfies of him brightly smiling, some scenery, and aesthetic plates of food. It’s that convenience store worker. He zooms in on one of his pictures; sure he’s pretty but the man’s not that attractive. In many of his photos, he credits Mashiho for taking them. 

So of course, he texts him.

**Private Chat between saHi and sHiHo  
_03:25_**

**saHi**  
kim junkyu  
describe him to me

 **sHiHo**  
Good morning to you too, Sahi  
I’m doing great, thanks for asking

 **saHi**  
okayokay  
my BAD  
but this is  
i m p or t a n t

 **sHiHo**  
Why?

 **saHi**  
apparently he asked Jaehyuk out today  
or yesterday  
potato potato

 **sHiHo**  
that’s the same word

 **saHi**  
stop  
help me out here

 **sHiHo**  
I mean  
I don’t think there’s much to protect him from  
Junkyu is the sweetest guy on campus  
I knew him in high school.  
People call him a koala.

Asahi hears the clanking of the curtain being pulled back. Without looking up, he puts his hand up for Jaehyuk. The elder takes it and lowers himself down in the space between his legs. A little bit of water trickles out of the cup he’s holding. After he puts it down, Asahi immediately pokes his sides and tickles him as punishment. Jaehyuk squeals and convulses at every point of contact, but it does seem to sober him up a bit. 

“I’ll check every so often to see how you’re hair’s processed,” he says.

 **saHi**  
tell me everything you know

 **sHiHo**  
Do you do this for every guy that asks Jaehyuk out?  


**saHi**  
it hasn’t happened to him before

“Who ya texting?” Jaehyuk cranes his head back to look at his phone, but Asahi sticks his arm out to push him away, holding the screen closer to his face. 

“Mashi.” Over the top of his phone, he's not sure if it's the fatigue settling in, but the elder's expression shifts a little bit. He lies down, letting his feet go up the side of the wall, and head rest on his stomach.

 **sHiHo**  
What  
You’re kidding.

 **saHi**  
i know

 **sHiHo**  
Fine but there isn’t much to say

Mashiho is a fat liar because he tells Asahi an absurd amount of information about Junkyu. 

Some of it is pertinent like he’s a psychology major studying to go into law. He’s a nervous but well-intentioned guy. He flew in a similar boat as Jaehyuk where they were both aggressively cast by a lot of outside agencies during high school but always rejected them for studying. He did take small brand deals, just large enough to pay for rent but not enough to take him away from school. 

He also sings, and quite well, to the point where the photographer recommends him. Asahi reassures the elder that his voice is more than enough, that it fits well with his style.

And then he goes into some weird smaller details. Like the guy doesn’t like the color red because it reminds him of blood. He hates Converse because he has wide feet, and he’ll only eat bagels from one specific shop about a twenty minutes walk away from campus.

 **sHiHo**  
Seriously, Sahi  
You have nothing to worry about

 **saHi**  
maybe

 **sHiHo**  
trust  
Now if you excuse me, I’m going to sleep 💕

Asahi replies with a small goodbye and puts his phone back in its place. He looks back up to see what his best friend is doing. Gratefully for him, Jaehyuk has given up and is back to playing a game on his phone.

He wraps his arms around the elder and leans back, pulling him up towards him. Jaehyuk whines at the change of position but gradually settles his weight into the chest behind him. Asahi says nothing and rests his head back against the wall. 

The elder looks up, obviously confused. “Are you okay?”

Asahi’s hands hit Jaehyuk’s stomach at the same tempo as the music and he quietly hums in contentment. He can’t really place why he's doing what he's doing and decides it’s easier not to even try. “I’m good.” 

Jaehyuk's hand wraps gently around his wrist, a silent signal to stop, but doesn’t pry him off. “But you don’t like hugging or affection or any of that.” 

Asahi just holds him a little closer. “I’m okay,” he murmurs. 

He doesn’t need to look at Jaehyuk to know he’s still skeptical. Nonetheless, the elder relaxes into the embrace and rests his hands over Asahi’s. 

“Okay.”

** **** **  


When Asahi enters the coffee shop, the bells above the door immediately jingle. He looks around for that bright pink coral hair. Even after making the promise, he was a bit worried that Jaehyuk would regret giving the artist full creative reign over his hair. He would have helped him dye it back to dark if he disliked it so much. But the bright smile that appeared on his face a few hours later clearly told him the opposite.

And the elder beams at him with a near-identical expression from the cash register, coercing the corners of the artist’s lips up into a weak imitation. 

“You never come during my shift,” his tone lilts into a softer tone, “iT’s tOO eArLy.”

“I would normally never be up before,” Asahi checks his watch, “eight on a Saturday, but I have to meet your boyfriend at some point,” he teases. 

“We’ve gone on two dates!”

“The best you’ve ever had,” he reminds him. Jaehyuk had tackled Asahi on his bed when he came back that day, and couldn’t stop talking about how perfect Junkyu was, how polite he acted, and how funny he was. So Asahi had to meet this guy for himself. 

The barista rolls his eyes.

“I gotta make sure you don’t get your heart broken again,” Asahi says, “What if he has unrequited feelings for his best friend or something?”

“Mada, it’s happened only,” Jaehyuk actually has to pause to count, “three times,” he states, waving the same number of fingers in their face. “THREE.”

“I don’t think that’s an only statement, Jae.” He would count Geonhak (partially), Yeonjun, and Seunghun if anyone asked him. But be it 3 or 6, his point still stands. 

Their banter could continue, but then, on the dot at eight, Kim Junkyu paces into the building.

Holy shit.

The guy is literally only wearing a black Anti Social Social Club shirt and a pair of plain joggers but the charisma that leaks from his smile is actually blinding. Asahi automatically backs away from the cash register to take a seat at an empty table. To fuel the mirage of preoccupation, he takes out his tablet and starts idly sketching. But, being the curious, or nosey, person he is, the artist tries to pay attention to the conversation. (It’s high school all over again.)

“Hi,” Junkyu greets much more meekly than he’d expected a regular customer from the past three months.

“It’s nice to see you again,” Jaehyuk replies, equally as awkward.

There’s definite tension between the two of them, not sexual, but a pleasant, more innocent kind. Like when two people barely know each other but want to take the effort to do so. 

“Do I-”

“Can you-”

They speak over each other and it’s disgustingly cute. Jaehyuk immediately blushes and waves for Junkyu to continue. 

Also flushed red, he asks, “Can you choose my drink today?”

And Jaehyuk smiles, just as brightly as when Asahi had entered the building. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

He starts going off about their newest hot chocolate and telling the psychology student that he’s pretty sure that it’ll be sweet enough for him. But of course. Three extra pumps of caramel. 

In a move that Asahi is pretty sure goes against all the health codes, Jaehyuk presses his hand into Junkyu’s shoulder and pulls him in, whispering something into his ear. Surprise seeps into the other’s face as he whispers something back into the barista’s ear. Jaehyuk grins broadly and laughs. Then, he quickly turns to Asahi and waves him over. 

The artist doesn’t budge. He probably should, to interact with Junkyu, but Asahi’s starting to think maybe he shouldn’t have come today. 

Jaehyuk, not taking any of his shit, walks out from behind the counter and drags the artist to where the other man is.

“You say you want to meet him, but then don’t do anything once I tell you to come here?”

Asahi, still taken aback, makes a small bow in Junkyu’s direction. “Best friend, Hamada Asahi.”

Junkyu does the same. His presence seems to intimidate the other. He’s not sure if it’s the bright platinum hair or his resting bitch face, but he doesn’t look the most comfortable. 

“I don’t really have a title, so customer, Kim Junkyu?” Then he bursts out into these giggles that has his best friend smiling even more widely, but also has Asahi relaxing a little bit. 

“You look familiar,” he states. Jaehyuk’s head cocks aside, curious about their interaction. 

Junkyu blinks at him, scrutinizing his features. He’s not sure if it’s weird that he does recognize him off of a one-time interaction, but the feeling is mutual. His eyes turn into saucers and his mouth opens in a big circle within seconds. With a little hop, he extends a finger, pointing in his direction. “Milk!” Jaehyuk giggles, muttering something that sounds very similar to cute under his breath, and Asahi nods.

Fuck, he’s excessively sweet and nervous in an endearing way that he knows Jaehyuk will adore if his whipped expression says anything about it. But as he looks back and forth between the two men in front of him, something feels wrong. 

“And I think I’ve seen you around campus with my roommate,” the elder continues. There’s nobody else who he knows that knows Junkyu except-

“Mashiho,” he replies amidst a passive realization. This was a detail he was very unaware of and it’s probably going to be the main topic of their next conversation. “We’re friends.”

Jaehyuk seems satisfied with where their conversation is going and decides to return to his cafe duties. But without any of his input it’s a bit awkward; neither attempt to further their conversation, favoring just standing next to each other in silence. Picking up on that, the barista starts a mild conversation about their majors. Is it a little weird Asahi knows most of this information already? Probably, but he feigns ignorance as much as he can. Junkyu rambles about some of his classes and the research lab he’s in and the cognitive links of love, or more specifically a strong appreciation.

“It activates the parts of the brain that tell you that you’re feeling happy and comfortable,” he explains with a smile. 

Asahi does a brief overview of his own major, to which Jaehyuk heavily adds his own take, apparently already having mentioned him much in passing like the fact that they live together and just showing Junkyu the work he’s done. Is it a bit overbearing? Maybe a little bit, but the artist can’t help but feel endeared about his boundless support and excitement. 

“I was going to force him to follow you on instagram,” Jaehyuk explains, “But it turns out he already was!” And Asahi can’t not smile at that. 

The three of them stand by the cash register for a while, just talking about whatever they can. Jaehyuk attempts to multitask while making their drinks, and Asahi has to constantly remind him that he should put all his attention on his work and that he can’t just steam coffee and give it to him as a drink. Junkyu doesn’t try to talk much, to Asahi’s relief. And when it does, it’s not baseless small talk, but more a reflection of topics that appear within his and Jaehyuk’s natural dialogue. The second-year doesn’t intrude much, building off the atmosphere. Asahi vibes well with it; it’s the code he used to crack while socializing. 

After a while, the psychology student seems to quiet down, fixating on a pamphlet in front of him. Asahi wants to protest, seeing his design being manipulated like that, but eventually, that voice quiets itself down as he sees what’s happening. 

Jaehyuk hands him his drink. Asahi notices some writing, and that his fingers overlap over the small heart drawn there. In return, Junkyu tucks the rose he’s been folding into the tip jar.

“I’ll see you later!” Jaehyuk says as the other walks out of the cafe, waving back.

“He’s just as perfect as you,” Asahi comments a few moments later, as soon as he’s disappeared from the window’s view. He takes the flower out and observes it’s quick but impressively clean lines, gently twisting its stem between his fingers. Jaehyuk quickly snatches it away and puts it in another vase where there’s already eleven of them.

Their best friend is practically jumping for joy. “He used to do it with dollars and then admitted it was money that he really needed to save. So he asked to take me out on a date instead.”

“Wouldn’t that be more money?”

Jaehyuk stares dreamily into the distance. “He waited for me until after my shift was over, and we just sat and talked over slightly stale croissants.”

“How romantic of him,” Asahi teases, taking a sip from his dirty chai latte. 

He’s briefly hit in the face with a stirrer. "He took me out to dinner last week, so stop."

There conversation would've stopped there if Jaehyuk hadn't quipped that it was ironic that he was gauging romance. "You don't have a romantic bone in your body."

And if that isn’t a challenge, he doesn’t know what is. Asahi takes Jae’s hand and brings it to his lips, pushing the other to become red again, maybe even more intensely than when he was talking to Junkyu, but he’s not sure if that’s just him.

Nonetheless, it boosts his pride. Just a bit. 

“You’re cute when you blush,” he adds.

Jaehyuk sputters behind the counter. “What!?”

Asahi sits back down by his things. “After your shift is over, let’s order takeout when we get home.”

“You’re going to wait? I still have four hours.”

He shrugs. “You’ll feed me. And people drawing practice.”

Jaehyuk, obviously still a bit phased from Asahi’s actions, nods slowly at the reasoning. His expression is adorable, a mix of shock and confusion tinged with excitement. 

It really is cute.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you ever thought about just telling Jaehyuk to avoid men with close best friends?” Yoshi jokes.
> 
> The artist leans his head back into the couch behind him and stares up at the popcorn ceiling. “That’s just weird and honestly self-contradictory.”
> 
> “Love is weird and self-contradictory,” the skater supplements. 
> 
> “Stop trying to be a philosopher,” Asahi rolls his head so he’s facing the eldest, “You sound like an angsty teen with a twitter.”

A couple of days later, he, Mashiho, and Yoshi decide to record some music at the photographer’s place. Asahi tries to figure out lyrics for one of his tracks, and maybe even including a rap at the bridge if Yoshi wants to insert himself. The contrast to Mashiho’s voice would make for an abrupt, but impactful texture.

They’ve spread themselves around. Asahi has taken purchase on the floor, back to the side of the couch, Mashiho on the couch, and Yoshi at the coffee table. The creative process can’t be rushed, and just as Asahi’s finished recording his vocals for the demo, they decide to call it a day. He blames his perfectionist tendencies. It’s pretty late, the sun having already set. 

Upon checking his phone, Asahi doesn’t find much in his notifications. Yedam updated his SoundCloud. There’s a snap from Jeongwoo that depicts Haruto studying. Doyoung uploaded another dance cover on his YouTube channel. Hyunsuk and Jihoon are celebrating their second anniversary in their group chat, but can’t post about it publicly because their debut is next week. He, as well as a bunch of their other friends, wish them well. Jaehyuk is panicking about what to wear on his date. (Poor guy would be a mess without him).

Asahi waves Mashiho over to help him with the decision. The elder sits down between his legs, taking the phone offered to him. “You’re right, the black turtleneck looks sleeker on him. But I’m pretty sure Junkyu would adore it with the quarter zip on top.” Asahi can’t help but agree and plucks the device out of his hands.

“A chic but comfy look,” he dictates, writing the same to Jaehyuk. His best friend seems elated at the suggestion if the excessive amount of heart emojis say anything. It’s the perfect opportunity to roast Jae’s inability to properly articulate himself. His comments earn him an impromptu pouting selfie. Asahi reacts with a small heart but says nothing more.

A sigh from the other side of the room interrupts their exchange. Yoshi watches them, a pained, almost pitiful expression on his face. 

“What?” Mashiho asks, sinking his head onto Asahi’s chest. The weight shift is uncomfortable, but Asahi doesn’t really react. The smaller man is, simply said, a baby and nobody can really reject a baby, even a stone-faced bitch like Asahi. 

“Could you show each other your portfolios?” he asks, “The ones that got you into uni.”

It’s a weird request, but neither seems to think much of it. He gives Mashiho his tablet and he receives the laptop.

Drawing any parallels between digital and photographic art is difficult. On the surface, their styles aren’t similar at all. The elder favors black and white, focusing on more dramatic, unconventional angles. As he flips through the pictures, the settings change. It starts with the ocean and the beach, and then the forest, later the desert, and then just white space. There’s a mix of cultural influences, both Korean and Japanese, in the clothing worn, makeup applied, and props used, emphasizing on androgyny. The dynamic aesthetic is undeniably beautiful. However, one thing remains consistent. 

“These are all Junkyu,” he observes.

“My muse,” Mashiho summarizes. Another thing the elder failed to mention. Asahi hadn’t interrogated the elder about the unmentioned factoid, because he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. If anything, it just confirmed why he knew so much about Junkyu. But, this: a muse. This seems to change what he initially considered to be conspiracies into potential realities. “We became closer my senior year when I asked him if he’d be interested and he was like sure. He became the base for a lot of my projects.”

“And what’s it called?” he asks. The file only has Soyeon written on it. 

The photographer momentarily panics, looking at Yoshi who only gestures for him to continue. 

“The World.” 

Yoshi crosses the room and immediately slaps him across the arm. “Don’t lie to him.”

With another sigh, he corrects himself. “My World.”

“Oh,” he can’t help but state, hating how this is all confirming his suspicions, “But Jae and Jun-”

Mashiho cuts him off. “Yeah, yeah, but you aren’t any better.”

Confusion envelops Asahi. He has an idea of what he’s implying, but it’s nothing truly tangible. “Explain.”

Like it’s a PowerPoint presentation, Mashiho presents the screen to him and starts to flip through it dramatically. Asahi doesn’t see much beyond his customary style. It’s taken years to hone in on, but the round, semi-realism and pop-art esque visuals make him happy.

“These all relate to Jaehyuk in some way,” Yoshi summarizes, peeking over Asahi’s shoulder, and causing him to flinch out of surprise. The man has sprawled himself along the length of the couch, propping his head on his arm. Mashiho stops at the pictures of a school desk, the orange water bottle, the face paints from grad pictures, and empty banana milk bottles. 

“I was very confused,” the photographer says at the revelation. He’s brought the tablet back to his face, “I know you hate bananas.”

“Tell him the title,” Yoshi pokes.

“TIE, which is short for, Treasure is Everywhere,” he easily reveals but also shoving him back as coordinated as one can do with their head, “Like it was supposed to highlight the things I found emotionally valuable to myself, especially the smallest details.”

Mashiho points to a pair of legs, with autumnal leaves swirling around them. The only color is the red of the leaves and someone’s same colored socks. “This one’s nice.”

Asahi smiles at the memory. “During our junior year, Jae wanted to have a picnic and wasn’t sure how to do it. I told him doing it when we did was stupid, with the winds being really strong, but he was like whatever who cares. He didn’t complain whenever a leaf hit his face or lodged itself into his noodles. But his faces were great.” The photographer nods understandingly. 

Mashiho sticks his elbow up, and Asahi taps it with his knee. Both of them crane their necks back at Yoshi, who’s waiting for them to put all the pieces together. 

“Fuck you, Yoshi,” the photographer concedes, grumbling, “I’ve been pining over Junkyu since my senior year.”

The skater nods knowingly and shifts his gaze to Asahi, obviously expecting a similar reaction. “I set the two of you up for a reason,” he states, “The same reason.” 

“Sure, we have similar interests, and fashion senses, but our art styles are completely different,” Asahi begins as he drums the smaller man’s head, “And we’re pretty close friends now.” 

Yoshi pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers and releases an exasperated sigh. “Not Mashiho.”

However, the artist can’t think of anything to say. He’s sure of the implication, but it’s never been a concern for him. “I don’t like Jaehyuk either,” he clarifies, “I’ve never liked anyone.” 

“Let’s do this differently,” Yoshi begins, “How do you feel about Junkyu?”

Asahi replays his interaction with Junkyu at the coffee shop and the few other times he’s met him when he’s walked Jaehyuk home. “He’s perfect for Jae, but there’s a definite uneasiness with the history he’s had with guys,” he concludes. His stylus fiddles over the unfinished picture of their sandwich and coffee. It wouldn’t be anything super new, except for the smiley face Jaehyuk had drawn on the napkin below. Although he’d complained about being potentially poisoned by Sharpie, Asahi had included it in the drawing.

Mashiho’s head tilts to one side, baffled, “You said nobody’s ever asked him out before.”

Asahi nods, “Yeah, but with the guys he’s asked out, they always,” he pauses to correct himself, “Almost always end up liking someone else.” He points to Mashiho, “And now I’m worried that it’s you.”

“And this is why I didn’t want to tell you about us living together,” he repeats (it’s exactly what he said when Asahi had asked him about it), “especially after that whole Leedo incident, it would’ve just fueled your delusions.” He slaps the younger’s knees to punctuate each word, “and this is what I’m fucking talking about.” 

Asahi takes the palms away from his legs. He shakes his head and begins to explain High School Jaehyuk™ and His Endless Crushes. If he wanted to, the artist is pretty sure he could make a full-blown presentation on this, highlighting Jaehyuk’s strength, recounting his love life, and then the patterns he’d observed. Yes, he liked a lot of people, but most of them turned out to be straight. The critical ones that proved Asahi’s best friend theory were Kim Doyoung, Choi Hyunsuk, and Lee Nayoung. Kim Geonhak, Kim Seungheun, and Choi Yeonjun extended that pattern into college.

“Have you ever thought about just telling Jaehyuk to avoid men with close best friends?” Yoshi jokes.

The artist leans his head back into the couch behind him and stares up at the popcorn ceiling. “That’s just weird and honestly self-contradictory.”

“Love is weird and self-contradictory,” the skater supplements. 

“Stop trying to be a philosopher,” Asahi rolls his head so he’s facing the eldest, “You sound like an angsty teen with a twitter.” After he sticks his tongue out at him, Yoshi just shoves his head in the other direction, towards the window. 

From the sliver he can see over the couch’s armrest, the sky’s turned much darker than anticipated, probably enough to see stars. He’s definitely lying to himself. The city’s light pollution hides all of them away. Only the moon and occasional airplanes permeate the darkness. He settles down a bit and starts patting his thighs with Mashiho’s hands in an unknown rhythm. 

“How did you know you liked Junkyu?” Asahi asks. Mashiho turns around, and stares at him excited, “I’m just curious,” he explains, “being someone who doesn’t know what it feels like to like someone.”

Yoshi hums in mock agreement, and before he knows it, Asahi is trying to whack him over the head. He does his best, letting go of the wrists, but he can’t effectively do it without disturbing Mashiho.

The photographer pats his legs until Asahi’s attention is back on him. “It’s a yearning to be always near them, and ensuring that they’re the happiest they can be,” he begins, “It’s a compulsion to keep them relevant to themselves, appreciated by others as much as you appreciate them, while unconditionally praising and adoring them for any good deed, no matter how irrelevant it may seem. Junkyu is a beautiful human, and I adore his small anxieties and large explosions of happiness. He is easily one of the brightest spots in my day; it sounds stupid, but he’s probably the best part of coming home. Whenever I see him, I can’t help but smile and my body straightens up. His laughs make me laugh, and even when he’s feeling down, I hope to be the happiness he has, that he’ll react and do the same for me.” He fixates on the hallway, down where Junkyu’s room is, his hands pressed against Asahi’s knees. 

“As stupid as it sounds, Sahi,” he redirects, “love can be weird and maybe sometimes self-contradictory, but that’s just how it is sometimes.”

Asahi was genuinely listening to what his friend said, but the longer he spoke, the more images began to appear in his mind. Every point resonated with him. 

He thinks about how weird his life would be if the elder had never approached him at school. Would he be the person he was today? That logic applies to any person; everyone leaves an impact on you, but Asahi can’t help but think with Jaehyuk, it’s more than that.

** **** **  


For the longest time, he always thought of drawing and music as just hobbies. Art was more of a process for him, one that grounded him; he never gave much thought to its byproducts, letting them exist as they are. His parents expected him to head down a similar, studios road, to his sisters. The eldest had actually become a lawyer back in Sapporo, while the middle was working on getting her Ph.D. So he was supposed to go into the medical field, and round out this perfect trifecta of Doctor, Lawyer, and Academic. 

Jaehyuk broadened that perception. Immediately upon sitting next to them, he kept praising every one of their projects. Of course, Asahi received the occasional compliment and word of acknowledgment before, but this boy just wouldn’t stop. After hearing one song or seeing one sketch, he would pester him to see and listen to more.

It was discouraging not winning anything, but thinking back on it, the offers and experiences he did earn were probably more valuable than any amount of prize money. In one case, one of the judges liked his style, and her brother, who ran a startup wanted to incorporate the drawing onto a puzzle to bring attention to LGBTQ+ East Asian teens. It gave him the exposure to later design his favorite project, a book cover. His music took a similar route, a part of one track being used as a chicken brand jingle and another completely becoming a co-promoted b-side for a smaller boy group. The royalties are pleasant surprises in his bank account and Asahi keeps in contact with some of the members, especially those who came from Japan. Whenever their schedules match up, they convene to actively use their native language and eat some good food. 

He ended up interning at the company for volunteer work and later a summer internship. There, the producers took him under their wing, and treated him like an infant (which he absolutely despised) but also taught him more about how to clean up his tracks, how to be more musically creative/unconventional, and so many other skills he wouldn’t have learned elsewhere. When they asked him to design the patterns of the album cover, Asahi did it free of charge, although Jaehyuk was pretty sure that that was illegal. 

Asahi called it an exchange of services. He later called his sister up, who knew a friend in entertainment law and essentially confirmed Jaehyuk’s words. But the money isn't important to him. That time essentially convinced him that he could be doing things that he genuinely loved as a career. 

So, at the beginning of his senior year, he changed partway through school from sciences to liberal arts and nobody knew what was going to happen. Asahi heard many comments floating around during the next few months that he was stupid and crazy for doing so, that there was no way he’d be able to get everything down in time, that he’d created he’d signed away to failure. Physically, Asahi’s apathetic homeostasis, made it seem like he didn’t care what others said, which was true for the most part. At least that’s what he tried to convince himself of; in reality, with how abrupt the decision had been, their words started to manifest doubt within him. 

However, with Jaehyuk’s positive dialogue, although intrusive and irritating at times, and excessive tutoring, he made an ideal environment for his interests to grow, where he could feel comfortable in his choices. And Asahi tried to do the same when the other talked about wanting to become a physical education teacher. But verbally comforting people is hard. 

“You don’t think of me any less, right?” It was the evening before Jaehyuk’s practical test and Asahi was sitting at the base of the basketball hoop. The elder was practicing his free throws. It was low effort and he didn’t want to overexert himself for the next day. Whenever the ball fell near his legs, the artist would weakly kick it back to him all while trying not to screw up his drawing. It was an angle from beneath the basketball hoop, with the lamp light blindingly placed in the center of the net. The beams that blurred around the hoop were weird and difficult to get right, but they were also wistful and pretty in a very simple way. It was another one of the pieces that would be a part of TIE.

“Of course not,” he’d replied indignantly. Jaehyuk shot the ball, and it fell smoothly through the hoop with a soft whoosh. Asahi did a small clap, patting the side of his leg and unsuccessfully pushing the ball back.

The elder laughed quietly at his failure and walked over to retrieve the ball. “Then that’s all that matters.” He crouched down and patted his head. Asahi automatically retreated from the touch, but in all honesty, he found it quite comfortable. “I know you don’t care much about sports, Mada. It’s fine. You always give me consumables.” The artist's gaze automatically flicked to the plastic bag filled with some sandwiches and vegetable smoothies. When he turned back, standing at the free-throw line, Asahi saw out of the corner of his eye that Jaehyuk was widely grinning. “You support me in your own way. I get it.” And even though his head was buried into his tablet, a fondness settled in his body. 

Asahi is always grateful for their natural balance and effortless understanding of each other. His serenity seems to ground Jaehyuk whenever he spirals down in his thoughts or becomes too excited to be socially acceptable. The elder, on the other hand, consistently never fails to up his spirits, even when he’s lost in thought or concentrating on whatever’s in front of him. Jaehyuk is like the sun, ironically enough considering their senior year, and Asahi is a plant that basks in his rays There’s an unspoken but mutual appreciation of each other that makes him wonder whether or not Jaehyuk considers his presence as critical as he does. 

He hopes he does.

** **** **  


“I don’t know what I’d do without him,” he mutters to himself but loud enough in the quiet room for his friends to hear, “We’ve just done so much together, and I can’t imagine doing any of it without him.”

“So you love him?” Yoshi offers. Asahi wants to point out that maybe, that’s all too big of a jump to make. Except, it isn’t. He stares down at the tablet laying next to him. Mashiho had scrolled into his newer drafts, more specifically the day he met Junkyu. The smiley face stares back at him, reaffirming, almost as if it were vicariously Jaehyuk’s.

His chest feels a bit lighter as he speaks. “Of course I do.” Mashiho throws a fist into the air, nearly punching Asahi in the face, and points an index finger at Yoshi, who briefly presses his own index finger against it in affirmation. “But how do I know if it’s more than platonic?”

The photographer nods sympathetically at the question. “It’s been the two of you for how long now?”

“About five years.”

He nods. “And in that time, have you thought about anything coming between the two of you?”

Asahi shakes his head.

“Would you want anyone to come between you two?” 

He opens his mouth to answer, but Yoshi interrupts the flow, asking a question. “Would a significant other do that?”

Instinctively, Asahi wants to say no, that Jaehyuk can go date someone if he wants to and it wouldn’t bother him at all. That he would stand there, in unconditional support.

But that would be a lie. Probably, he suspects. 

The thought of the television that is their life not constantly playing the Jaehyuk and Asahi Show was weird. To have part of it, maybe even more than half, covering the Daily Show with Jaehyuk and His Boyfriend felt wrong. Maybe it could be something he could get used to with time. But this ache in his heart isn’t something Asahi wants to just live with.

“I don’t want to force you into thinking anything,” Mashiho begins, fingers thrumming on his shin, “But you might like Jaehyuk.”

“What if I’m unhealthily toxic and codependent on him and I just can’t let him go?” he says jokingly, but fears if it’s actually true.

The photographer turns around, using his whole body so that he’s kneeling in front of him. He immediately tries to slap some sense into him, more specifically his shoulders. “Stop it,” cue the dramatic shaking, “the two of you adore each other equally like this is some top health.” The photographer stops his actions, and pauses for a moment, staring pensively at Asahi. “Does your heart kinda sink and sting when you see him with Kyu?”

“I,” he begins, “I don’t really know. Things just don’t feel right. Like I know Junkyu’s a good guy, especially if you’re so deeply in love with him, but it makes me uneasy.”

“And if you were in Junkyu’s position?” Yoshi asks.

To make Jaehyuk’s face light up and smile every time he sees him? To see those nervous, but flattered giggles whenever he receives a compliment? The blush, he can’t help but highlight; the blush. Jaehyuk’s already traditionally very attractive, but when tinted red, Asahi can’t help but admire how beautiful he looks. And if anything, when he was flirting with him, although he’d really never done so before with anyone, it felt so natural somehow, and watching the elder reduce into that unresponsive state was so satisfying. Similar reactions from high school and even more recently fly through his mind, making him feel all the better. (Junkyu could never).

Maybe it isn’t exclusive to Jae?

“Let me practice flirting with you,” Asahi proposes. 

Both Mashiho and Yoshi look absolutely shocked, but the former’s expression quickly morphs into excitement. In the background, he hears the squeaking of leather, presumably Yoshi moving away. For the first time, he and the photographer are visually at about the same level. “The moves that you didn’t pull out on our first date?” the elder asks cheekily.

Asahi ignores the comment. “Do you prefer approaching or countering?”

Mashiho’s tone shifts as he rests his hand on his shoulder and begins to trail down his arm seductively (he thinks that’s the intention). “I’ll let you decide.” His eyes narrow a bit as he slowly looks the artist up and down.

Asahi takes in a deep breath. He can totally do this. 

“Your hair color is beautiful,” he compliments trying to start in more neutral territory, “I wonder who did it for you.” He plays with a strand near the front of his face.

A playful smile appears on Mashiho’s face. “Are you just going to feed your own ego?” After seeing Jaehyuk’s and wanting his own pastel tone, the elder had paid the elder by singing on more tracks for him. But that thought dissipates the moment the photographer trails his finger gently along his jawline. 

Asahi freezes. He’s lying to himself. He can’t do this. It’s Mashiho; his body buzzes uncomfortably at the thought. But he doesn’t want to back out for his pride’s sake. 

“I think there’s a good reason to feed it,” he continues. His hand trails down the back of the other man’s head, fingers digging themselves into the hair, and the other rests against his hip. His eyes have fluttered shut and his mindset slightly shifted as a familiar face fills his consciousness. He feels the hands brace against his shoulders. Within seconds, he pulls him forward so their noses barely touch. The elder’s breath hitches and grip tightens. He leans into his ear and whispers, “You look amazing.”

When he pulls back a little, and eyes open, he immediately notices the other’s cheeks are bright red. Asahi moves his hand down to cradle his face and brush his cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I love it when pretty boys blush,” he laughs to himself, enjoying the way the finger temporarily imprints the soft skin.

The moment is abruptly interrupted by the doorbell. Yoshi gets up to open it, all while clapping encouragingly. “Nice.” Some words are being exchanged but the artist can’t see who it is; the skater covers him for the most part. 

“I got it!” Junkyu exclaims. Asahi watches him burst out of his room, dressed in a nice shirt, jacket, and joggers combination and replaces Yoshi at the door. If he notices him and Jaehyuk he doesn’t say anything. “Hey, Hyukie.” 

Hyukie? Jaehyuk? Wait. The date.

The door slams shut.

“Holy shit.” Upon hearing Mashiho’s voice, Asahi looks away and blinks out of the moment. “If you’d done this on our first date,” he rambles, still unable to look him in the eyes, “I mean you were already great, but this. This? What the fuck? You have this in your system?” His fists crumple his hoodie a little bit. 

“I guess I do,” he says with a small smile, somewhat embarrassed. He moves his hand away and instead tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. Mashiho swats his hand away.

“Stop,” he whines, “You’re weirdly attractive right now and that’s not something I thought I’d ever say about you because you’re you and it’s not like you’re not bad looking but.” He tries to collect his thoughts but ends up whining, “This is weird. I shouldn’t even be this embarrassed."

Asahi smiles, but his response is stilted. “Does that mean you like me now?” 

Mashiho stares at him, making clear eye contact. “No, because that,” he concludes with a consolation pat and finally getting up, “that was terrible.”

“It’s because he actually sees you now,” Yoshi explains.

And even as his friend pulls him up, all Asahi can do is nod and stare at the front door, where the real source of his attention had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is mashiho sitting between asahi's legs inspired by that one treasure map episode about carbs? yes, aggressively, yes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you dating Mashiho?”
> 
> “Me? And Mashiho.” Jaehyuk nods, obviously being serious with his assertion. “Me and Mashiho?” he repeats, and this time Asahi can’t hold his laughter in. He leans over, tears nearly forming in his eyes. “God that’d be so weird.”
> 
> Jaehyuk’s fingers wiggle nervously. “That’s not what it looked like when I picked Kyu up last week.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slowly opens the door: hey y'all... i'm baaack (school's been hard to balance)  
> sorry for the long wait; there were scenes in this chapter but then i realized,, i wanna split it
> 
> so i did and that's why the amount of parts in this heckin story keep changing, much apology!!
> 
> but if you're here hello and i hope you enjoy the chapter!

Asahi and Jaehyuk have finally dug a pocket of time out for the two of them to have their private anime watch party. As the school year winds away, so do the moments he usually spends with his best friend. Reasons he’s heard include a) Junkyu wants to go on a date, b) Junkyu and the rest of their gaming club have a meeting to attend, and c) Junkyu needs his help in stats. 

“There’s definitely other reasons than just Junkyu,” Mashiho reasons, “You’re being biased.” Yoshi and Haruto quickly agree. It’s not a one-way streak; Asahi is collaborating on dropping a full mixtape on SoundCloud soon with the aforementioned three. Another local business contracted him to do their logo, especially seeing the pamphlets at the cafe Jaehyuk works at, so that’s also been filling his plate.

But with the mental battle, he’s had in his mind, inevitably kicking up a dusty cloud of confusion, it feels easier to just blame Junkyu.

He turns towards the man next to him, engrossed in the dramatic reenactment of volleyball occurring on the screen. Asahi reaches into the bowl on his lap to feed him a small handful of popcorn. Jaehyuk opens his mouth and lets the kernels pour into his mouth, immediately swatting the hand away when it seems to have nothing more to give. 

The artist can’t place why, but realizing his feelings for Jae was more than platonic hadn’t been the most earth-shattering thing. He’s always felt close to him and knew the elder was attractive; tonight it’s heavily accented by the singular light source that is the television and the harsh shadows it casts on his features. They highlight his strong jawline, straight nose, and lips pursed in concentration. Somehow, through the darkness, Asahi’s gaze immediately attaches to his bright eyes, full of intrigue and concentration. And the wide openings of his mouth whenever he yawns.

“We could’ve pushed this off to tomorrow,” Asahi sings, “You know when midterms haven’t sucked the life out of you.”

Jaehyuk tries to slap him, which the younger skillfully dodges. Very quickly, however, he settles in with his arm tucked lightly into Asahi’s

It was like when he found out he was allergic to peanuts. He adores peanuts. Asahi’s trips to the student stores were never to purchase things for himself. The container of peanuts in his desk were always enough. Sure his mouth went a little tingly whenever he ate them, but he genuinely thought it was a part of the experience. So when he first described why he enjoyed the snack so much, Jaehyuk told him he was probably allergic to them, and after getting a blood test, he learned that he was right. (It’s a weird trend, the elder constantly being right, but Asahi never knows what to do with the information. He won’t comply with something just because Jae suggested it. But it’s somewhat comforting to know). 

Even with scientific confirmation, that didn’t stop him from eating peanuts. So, with similar logic, with his close friend group deducing his feelings, Asahi can’t find a reason to stop loving Jae. Sure the fuzzy feeling might signal something closer to impending doom, he can’t help but enjoy it.

Maybe boundaries should be set, and he should stop letting his adoration cross that line. Because eventually, he’ll be the one who gets hurt. The artist doesn’t know if he’s pushing it. Probably, but he tells himself if he lingers in this area of normalcy, where he’s been used to for so long, everything will be okay. But his behavior doesn’t even reflect that logic. He spots the elder’s eyelids slowly drooping, and that’s breaking tradition. Instead of chiding him one more time, Asahi decides to kill two birds with one stone; to possibly surprise him and getting his fix for affection, the artist tucks his head into the hollow of his best friend’s neck, atop his shoulder. 

He feels him shift, probably to look down at him, but he doesn’t say anything.

Sure, he’s missed their natural proximity, but there’s one part of it that he considers the biggest loss. It messes with him because it’s so mundane, a small detail. However, he can't say the same for those cheek kisses. 

While in high school, fucking with Jeongwoo and the dating rumors was all fun and games to Asahi. No real risk or value. Until now. And he knows the realization wouldn’t have come to him if they never had disappeared. He’d become so accustomed to the elder’s pouting and turning his head towards him in expectation that of course, he would notice its departure. And the pure mirth and surprise on his face whenever the artist decided to fulfill that request was a shot of pure adrenaline in his system, the foundation for a genuine smile. 

But there’s no more invitation, and the artist gets why; his best friend has a partner who can do all of that for him. He doesn’t need Asahi to do that for him.

Does that mean Jae considered him to be someone more at any point? That this affection may have been a subtle nudge to push the boundaries? It’s entirely possible, but Asahi can’t remember a time where Jaehyuk wasn’t fondly intrusive, strongly clinging onto him (but also a lot of other people in their friend group). But it makes the artist reach out in return. It’s an obvious showcasing of his feelings, but he’s never been good at lying about the big things. 

The artist is a mostly honest human; he’s never had a good reason to lie. In his opinion, proper communication is the key to any healthy relationship and he prides himself on his transparency. Sure there’s always the few white lies of yes I totally read this outdated misogynistic piece of trash for this sad excuse of a sociology class, or no, Ms. Lee, our cats didn’t accidentally have a litter because I like to let my boy roam free, and he made amends with Soobin and Yeonjun although they totally deserved to have the love beaten out of their systems (there was never a proper apology and Asahi stands in polite silence whenever they interact).

Although it doesn’t feel like much of a change to him, he knows he shouldn’t just announce his feelings for Jaehyuk out to the world. Asahi might be chaotic, but this is probably a step too far. 

There’s a firm squeeze to his leg, and he looks up, meeting eyes with a confused Jaehyuk. 

“What’s up?” 

His best friend laughs. “I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“I’m completely fine.”

Jaehyuk’s eyes search his face. “Are you sure this is okay?” He gestures to their position. 

Asahi moves away and sits up, already missing the elder’s warmth, but he isn’t sure what to say. He tilts his head confusedly; he didn’t think he’d overstepped.

“You mean your boyfriend thinks this uncomfy?”

Jaehyuk waves his hands and shakes his head. “It’s you,” that definitely stings a little bit, “He isn’t worried.”

Asahi’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Then what are you talking about?”

“Mashiho?” he poses.

The artist has more questions than when the conversation started. “Why would Mashi care?” is the most pressing.

The other’s mouth transforms into an O. He moves his hand in front of his face, takes a breath, doing that collecting yourself motion where his fingers come together. 

“I jumped the gun a little bit,” he laughs a bit nervously. Asahi’s gaze doesn’t waver, now determined to learn what has his best friend acting so awkwardly. He takes in a deep breath, and asks, “Are you dating Mashiho?”

“Me? And Mashiho.” Jaehyuk nods, obviously being serious with his assertion. “Me and Mashiho?” he repeats, and this time Asahi can’t hold his laughter in. He leans over, tears nearly forming in his eyes. “God that’d be so weird.”

Jaehyuk’s fingers wiggle nervously. “That’s not what it looked like when I picked Kyu up last week.” If anything, the artist is impressed that he hadn’t mentioned it for so long.

“A misunderstanding,” he concludes, “And Yoshi was there, how or why would we even do that?”

He shrugs, barely sputtering out. “Maybe y’all are into some kinky stuff.”

Asahi laughs and takes a sip from his beer. “Voyeurism? Nice.”

Jaehyuk smirks. “The quiet ones tend to be the wildest ones.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “So you think I was the one who initiated it?” 

“And you’re admitting something happened?” he retorts. 

“In theory, Jae.” 

His best friend seems to genuinely consider the situation. “I mean, he was on top of you, so it makes more sense that he came onto you.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re not wrong but it wasn’t anything serious. Just some practice.”

Asahi hears the skepticism linger in his voice “You’ve never been interested in it before.”

“Wanna see if I learned anything?” It’s all in good fun, some friendly teasing.

But then Jaehyuk simply says, “Sure.” And Asahi doesn’t realize he’s serious until the elder turns to look at him expectantly. “Well?” The confident image he projects is compromised by the way his hands thrum on his thighs. 

He’s nervous and unsure, and Asahi can’t help but feel the same. “And you’re positive Junkyu won’t attempt to kill me?”

“I doubt you’re any good.” Jaehyuk laughs in disbelief. “Plus, it’s you.” The words probably mean nothing to him but they spur Asahi into action. He scooches closer to him.

“So,” he begins, “do you come here often?” Asahi watches his best friend descend into a round of giggles. Of course, the artist takes the opportunity offered to him and removes the hand covering his mouth. “Wait, let me hear you laugh. ‘S pretty.”

The elder’s obviously taken aback, eyes darting around confusedly, but he doesn’t resist. The chuckles cease to his disappointment. Asahi tucks a loose strand of orange hair behind his ear. His finger trails lightly down the curve of his ear and rests gently on his shoulder. 

Shock turns into an impressed expression. “I could say the same for you.”

Asahi ignores the compliment and leans in a bit closer, taking a seat on top of the elder’s legs. “I was talking about your laughter.” Proximity is intimidating, as he learned with Mashiho, and this time is no different. He watches Jaehyuk’s features shift back towards surprise, cheeks flushing in embarrassment (probably his favorite part) and hands hovering confusedly. “But I mean you’re lovely too.” With one hand keeping him firmly in place, he runs his free thumb across the red warmth on his cheeks. 

“You can touch me,” he whispers into the elder’s ear. The other stiffens at the gesture, but also immediately obeys the artist, gingerly resting his hands on his thighs. “I don’t bite,” he huffs out a little bit in laughter, “I mean unless you want me to.” 

When he pulls back, Jaehyuk’s very obviously flustered, speechless. “It’s always the blushing,” Asahi murmurs to himself. His gaze flickers down to the elder’s somewhat chapped lips, slightly open in shock, and at that point, he wonders what it’d feel like to close the small gap. “Makes you so much prettier.” He settles for kissing each of his cheeks and then the tip of his nose before retreating to a more acceptable distance and doing anything he’ll really regret. 

Although yes Asahi is definitely satisfied, it does nothing to shield the concern he has, if maybe his affection had gone over. In a way, the fact that he’d even initiated anything could be considered weird, but it was also a request from his best friend, and who was he to say no to his favorite person.

However, he can’t help but still be concerned when the elder’s gaze stays unfocused and mouth agape.

He hits his chest, punctuating every contact with the man’s name. “Jae?” After the third or fourth time, the elder directs his attention to Asahi. “Are you okay?”

Jaehyuk stares at him incredulously. “It’s literally you,” the elder voices. Asahi has no idea what to say to that. “It’s your eyes,” he reiterates, “Just how you look at me.”

He’s going to have to ask Mashi about that latter. But he didn’t think that his gaze was any different.

“Wow that’s so weird,” the elder laughs a bit stiltedly, “Really weird. I didn’t expect you to be so-”

“Hot?” he fills in, “Talented? Smooth?”

“Tender,” he concludes, “Like that’s not flirting. This is way too intimate to be plain old flirting. I mean there was that biting thing which okay that counts but the compliments.” Jaehyuk’s hands reach up to squeeze his cheeks. Asahi immediately whines trying to get out of his grip but quickly fails. “Are you trying to make someone fall in love with you?”

The artist laughs nervously at the assertion. “Maybe.” He starts to climb out of the elder’s lap, hopefully, to disperse the situational tension (definitely not the best choice on his part), but as he’s trying to step over his legs, his foot gets caught on the bottom of the couch. His momentum is moving too forward and he’s so sure that he’s about to collapse face first and earn himself a mouth full of rug. 

However, being the athlete he is with incredible reflexes, Jaehyuk’s arms immediately move up to wrap around Asahi’s waist, pulling him to his chest. 

And they’re back in that same proximity, the atmosphere still as charged as it was before, without the ruse of faux flirting to blame. He isn’t prepared for this, not in the mindset to spin this around to something more normal, and the elder seems to be in the same state. It’s stupid because they’ve definitely been this close before with no emotional repercussions. Sleepovers meant they would inevitably share a bed and wake up tangled in each other's limbs, their breaths mixing. They used each other as heat packs during cold winters (the only circumstance that Asahi would allow Jaehyuk to be affectionate with him in public). Summers meant going to the beach together and play-fighting in the cool waves. Jaehyuk loves to toss him into the water whenever he could pick up his paper light figure. Hell, they’ve spent so many years together, they’ve stared at each other for contests or silent conversations in class. Time has guided them into this pinnacle of mutual comfort. 

Unfortunately the past doesn’t translate to today because the artist is currently stuck, trying not to fixate on the hand that’s accidentally slipped under his shirt, the heat of his best friend’s body, or the indistinguishable emotion in the other’s eyes.

After what feels like forever, Asahi feels his phone vibrate in his sweatshirt pocket and against Jaehyuk’s stomach. The screen reads “mamo” with an all too gaudy string of hearts next to it. He both blesses and curses Mashiho for his impeccable timing. Even if the atmosphere had been maintained, Asahi knows he couldn't bring himself to act upon his feelings. He might not be super close to Junkyu, but he respects the elder enough and has the moral backbone to understand that cheating is a shitty thing to do. 

“Don’t watch ahead of me!” he exclaims, heading towards the balcony and trying not to divest so much of his brainpower into unfolding whatever the fuck just happened. It’s a weak attempt to normalize everything, but he hopes that it works.

“You’re a piece of shit but I love you.” 

He can imagine Mashiho smiling on the other side of the receiver. “You did a dumb?”

“The biggest.” Asahi chuckles to himself, resting his arms against the railing and staring out into the dark cityscape. 

The older man sighs in that mock disappointing way. 

“So why’d you call? I told everyone I was hanging out with Jae tonight.”

“My friend senses were tingling,” Mashiho replies all too seriously. Any humor the joke intended to have quickly dissipates. “I was going to ask if you wanted to do some emo art pieces tonight.”

“I’m with Jae,” he repeats.

“I’ve been last-minute editing my composition portfolio for the past couple of days, and Ruto filled the group chat up with his dumb fucking pining for Jeongwoo, so I didn't know that.”

“You’re just salty that your best friend hasn’t reciprocated your feelings.” Asahi teases.

“Doesn’t, not hasn’t.”

“You know I hate feeding your ego,” he turns around to lean back, facing the living room where Jaehyuk leans his head on an open hand and is now swaddled in blankets, “But you’re really a phenomenal person.”

“Thank you, Sahi,” the photographer replies in that squeaky cute voice. 

Asahi shakes his head, disappointed. “Fuck off.” He looks through the window; Jaehyuk seems all too still. The artist, as coordinated as he can in his tipsy state, opens the door with one hand and presses the phone against his ear with the other. Once he reaches the couch, his suspicions are confirmed. 

“He’s asleep,” Asahi tells Mashiho, “Let me get him to bed and I’ll call you back.”

“You could just leave him on the couch,” the elder proposes.

“I’m gonna carry him,” he declares, and then firmly hangs up before Mashiho can roast him for his spaghetti arms. 

After making sure his path is clear and all the doors are open, sleeves pushed up to make him feel better about himself, phone stuck into his back pocket, Asahi braces on the floor, tucking his arms under Jaehyuk’s sleeping figure. Then, he for no better word waddles to the elder’s room. Fortunately, he does make it just before his arms give in to all that weight.

His best friend is unceremoniously dumped onto the mattress. The artist moves the blankets a little bit, so he won’t be cold later. 

Satisfied with how he’s left things, Asahi prepares to leave, when a hand lightly circles around his wrist. 

“Mada,” the quiet voice croaks, “I thought you were staying with me.”

His hand rests on the elder’s, but he doesn’t push the grip away completely. “You fell asleep. Exams really destroyed yoy.You should rest.”

“Are you actually going to see Mashi right now?”

Asahi nods. “I’m still pretty awake, so I was going to go paint with him.”

Jaehyuk rests his hand over the artist's. The eyes that stare at him shine under the dim moonlight pleadingly. “Stay.” He shakes the arm in his hands. "At least stay until I fall asleep."

And they’re enticing, his words too attractive for his attached brain. However, Asahi knows there’s already too much of a shift. If he agrees, he knows that Jaehyuk wants him to hold him until he falls asleep and the artist is all too afraid that he’ll finish what he started. So he decides to sit at the edge of the bed, watching the man comfortably wrapped up in his sheets. It isn’t hard to pull away, but the emotion tethers him to their shared space. He pushes Junghwan towards his chest, giving him something to hold. 

"Okay," he concedes. The quiet atmosphere is soon filled by Asahi's humming; the artist gently pets the elder's head, enjoying how the strands feel between his fingers.

“Not fair,” his best friend quietly murmurs, “You’re just making me,” he yawns, “sleepy.”

The artist nods. “It’s exactly what you need.”

In the middle of another yawn, Jaehyuk tries to say something, but it vaguely sounds like “why wee woo." As curious as he is, he can't bring himself to ask about it, hoping it'll help him fall asleep faster. He fondly watches the elder's eyelids flutter close.

Is he breaking best friend protocol, this unspoken promise to be always loyal to each other? Just a little bit, but there have been way too many innate modifications to those rules in the past couple of months and Asahi's feelings have pretty much overhauled it all. It's a lot to take in; whenever he becomes this overwhelmed, he finds himself retreating to one of two designated safe spaces: Jaehyuk or the creative process. With the former being the source of conflict, it forces him to default to art. But Asahi being Asahi, the two sectors inevitably overlap, the elder serving as much inspiration for his work. 

“I’ll make a piece for you,” he mindlessly promises. 

A small smile. He hadn't even realized he'd said that aloud. “Thank you,” Jaehyuk whispers. “I love you.”

Asahi smiles back, already knowing how deep of a grave he’s emotionally dug himself. “I love you too.”

As soon as he hears the quiet rumbling of his snores, the artist takes a jacket off of Jae’s clothing chair (you know the one used solely to lay clothes onto), checks his pockets for the essentials (lip balm, keys, wallet, and phone) and calls Mashiho.

“I’m coming. Just promise not to tear me to shreds after I tell you everything.”

(His warning is useless because Mashiho immediately roasts him about how stupid he’d been for crossing the line and essentially showcasing his feelings. 

“If he doesn't figure it out just off of that," the photographer scoffs, "you truly lucked out with the king of obliviousness.”)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soft/slightly angsty hours


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s a bit rude to ask a taken man for his number, don’t you think.”
> 
> Asahi stares down at the hands, back to a shocked Jaehyuk and the rest of the table, and up at a not convinced waiter.
> 
> “Yes,” he gets out, albeit a bit stiltedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back, almost after two weeks;; i'll aim for a ten day minimum but just to let yall know :>
> 
> i didn't plan this part to be so big and now that i've mentally incorporated more plot, i'm inserting another part (which means more for yall to read haha.
> 
> anyways i hope you like today's chapter :> and stay safe out there!!

Asahi has a weird relationship with outward attention. He knows he’s his own person, and that he should just do whatever he thinks is best for him, but hey a little support never kills anyone. He likes reading the small adoring comments underneath his works of art, appreciating how his style and content were able to resonate with his viewers. Whenever his friends react positively to a track he’s shown them, a bud of personal satisfaction blooms in his heart. Conversely, when people post homophobic comments or baselessly criticize his works, saying that their “ugly” or that he’s talentless, the words go in one ear and out the other. 

Jaehyuk has been the person he’d consistently gone to for opinions on his drafts. Maybe it’s stupid, the younger having no experience in either musical or physical art production, the former a little bit based on that crash course he gave the elder back in high school, but it’s a perspective he treasures. He explains to those who question his methods that he wants a pair of eyes who haven’t honed onto his style, or ears trained to listen to the cleanliness of a song. 

There’s also their near-telepathic communication channels, where Jaehyuk is so easily able to point out what Asahi wants in his work. Their conversation flows naturally, and almost always, his best friend brings something up, inciting a chain of thoughts that allow him to conclude what to change up and how. Their “secret power” becomes useful even beyond art critiques. More rampant are the subtle but undeniably domestic actions they do for each other. Jaehyuk buying him a new brand of coffee that Asahi ends up liking, Asahi ironingJaehyuk’s slacks the night before, not actively remembering the interview he has the next day. 

This was really evident around a month or two ago when Yedam and Doyoung decided to take a weekend trip to meet their college friends.

Asahi had invited them to visit their apartment, but Jaehyuk was late, after planning on bringing Junkyu with him. The two of them had worked very thoroughly to clean up their space, not wanting everyone to see the perpetual mess that they so comfortably now lived in. The artist was left to greet guests and catch up with them, which also meant explaining the lack of Jaehyuk’s absence.

“Junkyu is who?” Yedam had exclaimed. Everyone was sitting around the coffee table in the living room, eating the bars of ice cream that he and Doyoung had brought.

Yoshi nodded. “Jaehyuk’s boyfriend.” Asahi quickly got tired of his chocolate ice cream and swapped it with Mashiho’s strawberry bar. He sat comfortably on the floor, head between Mashiho’s legs, while his feet dangled gently over his shoulders. The exchange would have been great if Yoshi quickly snatches it out of his hand, replacing it with a matcha one. 

Doyoung shook his head in disbelief. “You lied to me!” he exclaimed while hitting his boyfriend.

The other man shrugged confusedly. “I was so sure they were dating!” To which Asahi had to effectively calm him down and reassure him, maybe a bit disappointedly, that no they were not in a relationship.

“Is it because of him?” Yedam unabashedly asked, pointing at Mashiho to which the three friends broke out into laughter. 

Mashiho patted his head, forcing Asahi to look up. “Maybe we should?” he proposed, “Give Jae and Kyu a run for their money.” He rolled his eyes at the idea. 

“Sounds dumb.”

Yoshi sighed next to them. “Trust me I tried. But Jaehyuk and Junkyu aren’t bad looking together.”

And at that moment it was speak of the devil, Jaehyuk walking into their abode, his fingers entangled with Junkyu’s. The artist had quickly learned to block out their physical displays of affection. He’d join Yoshi in teasing them and fake retching out of disgust, but it bothered him in a much more emotional way. 

“Hi!” he chirped. Everyone waved back gingerly at him. Yedam immediately stood up with Doyoung trailing behind him, to greet the unfamiliar being. Jaehyuk exchanged a quick smile with Asahi, who was struggling to not get kicked in the face by Mashiho and his hyperactive being. He’s a bit amused watching the elder tackle his roommate into a hug. 

“Mada!” Jaehyuk yelled from the kitchen, standing in front of the cupboards. “Where’s the-” And he immediately blanked while his hands moved around to show some vague dimensions. It didn’t take much for Asahi to realize what he was looking for. 

“We never use it,” he retorted with a smile, already getting up to help the elder out. He made a b-line for under the sink, pulling out this beautiful dark green, bumpy looking teapot. Mashiho ridiculed them for it, saying it looked like a gourd, and with it’s yellow inside, Asahi conceded. But it was his and Jaehyuk’s child, made during one lazy night when they passed by the pottery place offering a half-off sale.

“And did you get-” 

He pointed up towards the upper cabinet. Jaehyuk followed his finger and grabbed the mix of green tea, lavender, jasmine, and chamomile leaves. “The lady at the counter stared at me so judgingly, Jae.” The elder paid him no heed as he poured the dried leaves in, adding hot water to steep. Eventually, he walked back to the table, taking his spot next to his boyfriend. Asahi turned away as he looped an arm around his waist, to grab the small cups that were stored in the drawers. 

Jaehyuk’s expression was inquisitive as he stared around the space, patting the rug beneath him curiously. And it's then the artist remembered the long drawn lectures about tea he’d been at the receiving end of for days on end. So many small details were highlighted, like the time the leaves have to spend in the teapot, or the ratio of leaves to water, and the temperature the water had to boil at. Especially the temperature part. 

There’s no exchange of glances or overt arm waving or even semi-effective hand gestures; it’s closer to intuition. Asahi already had the thermometer in his hand, ready to present to his best friend. 

“Fool,” he muttered fondly, and then louder adds. “65 degrees.”

Jaehyuk made grabby hands at the device until it landed comfortably in his grip, nodding excitedly, and probably not listening to anything that Asahi just said. He wasn’t worried; the other man had been the one to drawl on and on about tea steeping that week. 

So yeah it’s one hundred percent weird when upon his arrival home he can’t parse out all the details in Jaehyuk’s expression. The sun has sunken down on the sky, clock nearing five in the afternoon, one hand holding a small painting under his arm and the other hand gripping some takeout hangover soup. He’s greeted by Jaehyuk the moment he opens the door, slouched back against the couch. He’s yawning, hair frazzled, and he can’t help but notice how the collar of his shirt is slightly stretched to reveal delicate collarbones.

His brain isn’t functioning well; all he knows is Jaehyuk is pretty. 

“I got you some stuff to help with the hangover,” he announces, putting the food on the coffee table. The elder takes the phone and gives him a semi-polite smile. His gaze is dark but not necessarily steely and his eyes lack the customary crinkle in its corners. Asahi decides to sit by him until there is a concrete response. The silence is unnerving; the artist thinks if he weren’t so unsure of their dynamics anymore he’d go up to him and squeeze his cheeks or pat them teasingly to get his attention. (Oh for his feelings to be sewn beneath ignorance again. 

Eventually, he gets up to store the bag in the fridge. “I was wondering when you’d get back,” Jaehyuk says in this untraceable tone. Asahi would like to understand why this lower, not disingenuous but disconnected tone, exists. 

“Are you okay?” he can’t stop himself from asking. 

With a small, now softer smile, Jaehyuk reaches out to pat his hair. “I’m fine. Just thinking about what I wanna wear for dinner tonight.”

The artist stares at his watch, realizing that that’s set to happen in two hours. “I legit forgot,” he admits. 

The elder immediately scrutinizes his garb. “Are you going to change?”

Asahi stares down at his hoodie and joggers. “I’m already wearing clothes.”

He sits back down to crumple the royal blue fabric in his hands. “You’re kidding.” Asahi does understand the concern; the pieces are the same from late last night and he might look a little bit crusty. But it’s also a dinner with their close friends so who cares what he looks like.

“What’s wrong with this?” he questions, gaze flickering between the fist of cloth and the man before him.

When Jaehyuk leans in closer, he doesn’t know what to do but can feel his cheeks grow warm. He’s seen all of his features before, but it’s different magnified; the way his bangs slightly curl, the gentle curve of his eyelashes, the warm brown of his eyes, and the straight line of his nose. His heart thumps erratically in his chest, the situation being all too familiar for his poor brain. 

“Why?” he asks, a bit quietly to get a response out of him. He both regrets and thanks himself for speaking, because Jaehyuk looks up at him, letting their eyes meet. And Asahi is rendered a bit speechless. The subtle patterns in his irises, almost like lace, are simply beautiful. How has he not drawn them yet?

Before he can fall deeper into his emotions and the visuals of the man before him, Jaehyuk flicks him on the forehead. “There’s a sauce stain from last night’s dinner.” He pokes at the spot on his chest. “And paint stains.” He pokes at a few other points on Asahi’s body, forcing him to spiral into a laughing fit. “Let me dress you for the night.”

Any resolve now nonexistent while catching his breath, the artist looks at the dark splotch and back at Jaehyuk. “You’ll be late to pick up Junkyu. And the reservation,” he weakly argues.

His best friend takes him by the wrist, the contact pleasantly warm, and drags him to his bedroom. “He won’t mind and Yoshi’s always the first one there.”

“No crop tops, Jae,” he states, “And not too much skin.”

From his closet, Jaehyuk gives him a thumbs up. It’s comfortable and low stakes; just bros being dudes choosing out outfits, while one mindlessly pines for the other. There’s a balance of comfort and style that pacifies any anxieties Asahi might have. Jaehyuk’s trying to insist on a button-up shirt, but the artist deems it too formal. Whenever he finds a sweater he likes, the elder says it’s too basic and probably too oversized.

Their compromise comes after a phone call from Junkyu and a few rounds of rock paper scissors, in the form of a knitted white V-neck sweatshirt, the collar accented in red. 

“Cuff those ripped blue jeans and wear those dark boots!” Jaehyuk yells as he’s putting on his long coat. It complements the tan and white striped shirt that he’d paired with a pair of nice grey dress pants for the evening. The elder wanted to add a sailor-esque white hat, but Asahi forced him to put it down for his own welfare. 

While he’s struggling, the artist removes the long navy ribbon from the hat and ties it around his neck as a choker. Jaehyuk doesn’t react, continuing to shout out orders, “And hair up. Contacts too!”

Asahi sticks his keys and phone into his hand, shoving him out of the door. “I’ll see you at the restaurant.”

“You better listen to me, Mada.” He shuts the door, muffling the latter half of Jaehyuk’s sentence.

But of course, he does as he’s told.

** **** **  


Jaehyuk’s fixation on the details rubbed off on him and he’d even decided to put on some makeup. It’s nothing much, just a thin layer of BB cream, a pink gloss, and a light dusting of orange eyeshadow. 

“Damn, Sahi,” Yoshi says when he approaches the empty table, “You look great.” 

Attention isn’t a bad thing; Asahi knows this. But it’s weird when it’s directed towards him, as a person. There were a few times in high school where he was approached instead of Jaehyuk, but it was always for less traditional and smaller more artsy magazine spreads. Nonetheless, Asahi turned them down. With Yoshi it’s different; that’s his friend, so he pays no heed to the compliment. 

When he notices the first stranger staring at him, he thinks it’s because he’s sitting with only one other person at a table intended for eight people, but waiting for late friends is a common occurrence, so that doesn’t make much sense. Part of him wonders if his face had been leaked, but when he searches up his pen name, nothing comes up. He sees people taking pictures of him from afar and it’s the weirdest fucking thing. 

“Dude, what’s happening,” he murmurs into Yoshi’s ear, hoping the alarm in his voice is evident enough.

He surveys the room, also noticing the weird behavior. “I actually don’t know.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he swears he sees a gaggle of servers playing rock, paper, scissors in the corner of the restaurant. And the presumed loser, a young woman who he’d witnessed deflate, approaches his table and lays the menus at the seats. 

“Hi,” she stutters nervously. 

After a few blinks of silence, she speaks again.

“We,” she points back to the group, “were wondering if you were an idol or something?”

Yoshi starts to laugh hysterically. That’s. That’s definitely a new one. Asahi shakes his head. “And I won’t be ordering until my friends come,” he adds. 

She nods awkwardly and shuffles away back to her group.

“You really do look good,” Yoshi comments, “But I didn’t realize people would go this crazy.”

Asahi barely listens to his friend, instead of fixating on their server. Everyone around her looks both surprised and confused. One guy whispers something into her ear and the girl looks completely mortified, as she shakes her hands in rejection. 

However, his show is interrupted, when he hears a familiar voice exclaim his name. 

“Sahi!” Mashiho yells from across the restaurant at an embarrassing volume. They saw each other a few days ago, but the small man is rushing at him as if they hadn’t had any contact in years. He feels the small arms wrap around him tightly. Asahi puts his hands gingerly on his hips.

“Wait stop,” he whispers, “I don’t want more attention on me.”

His words have the photographer pulling away from him. “More attention,” he slowly repeats. Yoshi nods, visibly amused by their turn of events. 

Asahi relays his observations, a bit annoyed that the elder won’t get off his lap. Mashiho does, however, pull away to get a better look at the artist.

“You just look really good today,” he concludes. “Like I rarely see your forehead.”

He blinks down at his outfit. He doesn’t think it’s anything new. “Well, I guess Jaehyuk had a point with this.”

The mention of his best friend causes Mashiho to ask about him, which in turn permits Asahi to ask about Junkyu. They stare at each other quietly, mentally conceding they’re on the same page. Yoshi opens his mouth, probably to quip something about their unrequited feelings, but dual, pointed stares, stop him to their mutual relief.

A few moments later, Jihoon and Hyunsuk, heavily covered in face masks and baseball caps, take seats in front of them, their backs to the rest of the restaurant a few minutes later. 

“Oh shit,” Hyunsuk comments as he pulls Asahi in for a quick hug, “You’re not wearing a hoodie.” Jihoon looks mildly surprised. “The most cohesive I’ve seen you dress was our high school uniform.”

The artist can’t help but laugh at that. “I mean, if you want to give your compliments to the chef, you’ll have to wait until Jaehyuk gets here.”

Mashiho thrums with excited energy next to him. “Does he look like an idol, because that’s what some people said.” All he gets in response is a pocket of silence and clear confusion; Hyunsuk and Jihoon had never met the photographer. He quickly lays down an introduction, circling back to demand an answer to his question.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you got street-casted tonight,” Jihoon admits. “You do look really good.”

With more people, Asahi feels a little awkward, mentally trying to plan to talk, but after a while, he gives up and just listens. Mashiho carries the conversation, fluctuating topics from the classes he’s taking, and to social issues, which sparks Jihoon to talk more intensely. Eventually and expectedly, they talk about LGBTQ rights.

“The representation is seriously surprising,” Hyunsuk mulls, “Like it’s not super prevalent, but the system is dependable.”

“But our company is still don’t ask don’t tell,” Jihoon scoffs under his breath, “I mean, our members know and they were all pretty accepting, except for a few of the older guys who are a bit iffy on us, but it’s not as bad as it could have turned out to be.” His boyfriend nods in agreement. “The fact that we’re dating each other does stop most concerns, but dynamics can be weird.”

Yoshi’s eyebrow raises curiously. The two of them freeze at the admission; they’d accidentally outed themself (Mashi does have that effect on people). Asahi wonders how they’re going to deal with that. Gauging from the photographer’s expression, curiosity rather than shock, it won’t have to be much. He reassures them that nothing he hears tonight will be going to Dispatch, swearing on his and Asahi’s friendship. 

“Good riddance,” Asahi murmurs, which causes Mashiho to instantly shake his body.

Whilst semi listening to their discourse, Asahi feels bad for the two of them and the fact that they can’t be who they truly want to be, but they also do seem mostly content, which makes it not a total loss.

“Your album wasn’t bad,” Mashi continues. He nudges Asahi a bit, who goes into his personal interpretation of the tracks, and how he thought they should’ve promoted another song rather than their title. Hyunsuk immediately breaks out into a grin and the two of them go into a long drawn conversation about music and production. 

This discussion happens every time they meet up. He’s like a ball on a hill; with a slight push, he can keep the ball rolling, maintaining the momentum by himself. 

After some time, their server returns. It isn’t that pleasant-looking girl, but a man whose name tag clearly reads “Jisung.” The artist has met a few Jisungs in his life. There was Han Jisung, one-third of 3RACHA, a group of producers he’s worked with before. And there’s Park Jisung, that friend of Doyoung. But this Jisung is neither of them. He’s tall and broad, and Asahi just knows server Jisung could pick him up without batting an eye.

“We’re still waiting on people,” Mashiho tells him. 

Jisung looks at Mashiho and nods in acknowledgement, but then his gaze trails back to Asahi for a few moments.

“You really aren’t an idol?” 

He shakes his head adamantly. 

“Companies are really missing out with you.” When he walks away, Asahi lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding.

** **** **  


Finally, Jaehyuk and Junkyu appear, shoulders close together and laughing about something that no one else can hear. It sends a dull but unpleasant pang to his chest. Mashiho immediately rests his hand on top of his, comfortingly

“Who’s that?” Jihoon asks.

Hyunsuk’s eyes widen in recognition before Yoshinori can even say anything about it. “He auditioned I think last year and got in. But then he said he didn’t want to be a trainee.”

“But why’s he so close to Jaehyuk?” Junkyu’s arm rests all too naturally around his best friend’s waist, and Asahi doesn’t know what to do about it. 

“They’ve been going out,” Yoshi explains.

Hyunsuk looks very confused. “Wait. You’re not dating Jaehyuk.”

Asahi doesn’t even realize the rapper is talking about him until all eyes turn to his direction. “No.”

“Oh wait what the fuck.” Hyunsuk looks midway through a mental breakdown. He turns to his boyfriend who doesn’t do much about his frantic movements.

“I always thought you were aromantic,” Jihoon states, gently patting his partner’s thigh.

“Demi,” he clarifies, not bothering to hide his feelings, “But I’m figuring it out so please don’t tell him.”

“Don’t tell who, what?” Jaehyuk asks him curiously. The couple has finally made their way to the table.

“I’ve decided to come out to you as straight,” he replies in a deadpan voice. 

The elder is smiling as he slips into the seat next to him. “And to think that you’ve lied to me all these years.”

After everyone’s settled down, Hyunsuk immediately offers to buy a round for everyone, starting the night off on a high note. Food is quickly ordered. Jaehyuk points out his favorite dish for him, to the artist's great relief. The unused energy can be used to forcibly ignore how the server keeps looking at him.

His best friend notices his slight stiffness. He blames excessive attention, which isn’t necessarily a lie.

There are bright grins and rowdy laughs everywhere as Hyunsuk relays stories about promotions and their interactions with celebrities which Junkyu and Mashiho eat up. Yoshi and Jihoon discuss more skating tricks they’ve been practicing, leaving Asahi to talk to Jaehyuk.

“You know,” his best friend says, watching the fourth rejected person walk away from their table, “I know I did a good with this outfit, but not this good.”

Asahi immediately slaps him on the arm. “This is why I dress the way I do.”

“You just don’t care most days,” he replies, “like seriously wear your contacts more often.”

His nose crinkles in disgust. “It’s too much of a hassle. I don’t enjoy poking my finger into my eye.”

Naturally, their discussion becomes more of a negotiation, the elder trying to bribe him into doing his bidding. Asahi’s relieved that no talk of last night has surfaced; maybe it’s something that the two of them can put behind them. Partway through trying to double the offer of strawberry milk, a stray order of chicken is put on the table.

“We didn’t order this,” Jaehyuk immediately tells the waiter. 

“It’s on the house,” he replies. Asahi’s readying himself for the free food, but a voice in his mind tells him there’s definitely a reason. Maybe the owners are big fans of Hyunsuk and Jihoon’s group and want a picture. His common sense serves him well, but the specifics are wrong. “If I can get your number.” Jisung’s gaze has shifted to Asahi.

The artist is immediately taken aback. In the most steady tone he can muster, he rejects him, shoving the plate away from him with the back of his chopsticks. “No, thank you.” 

“Come on,” the man continues, “It’s just your phone number.” He takes out his pad of paper and a pen, putting it in Asahi’s face. “I can’t take it back to the kitchen.”

“Just put it on our bill,” he reasons.

“Your insta?” 

“No, now please go away.”

Asahi wants the seat cushions to swallow him whole. Everyone seems to notice the change in the atmosphere, but it’s his best friend who actually says something about it. “Lay off,” Jaehyuk demands, “He doesn’t want to give you his number.” 

Before the server can get a response in, Mashiho, hand already resting on his leg, shifts his palm up a bit to link their fingers. It’s only when he lifts their held hands to put on the table, open for everyone to see, that Asahi realizes what’s happening.

“It’s a bit rude to ask a taken man for his number, don’t you think.”

Asahi stares down at the hands, back to a shocked Jaehyuk and the rest of the table, and up at a not convinced waiter.

“Yes,” he gets out, albeit a bit stiltedly. 

Suspicion clear in his eyes, the waiter observes that that’s not what their dynamic is. So the small man next to him plants a small kiss on his cheek. Asahi has to physically control the shock that grows on his face. 

“Is that enough for you, Jisung?” Mashiho spits out. 

The waiter’s expression morphs into something more sinister. “Prove it.”

Asahi feels blood flood his face. “What?”

“We don’t have to do shit for you,” the photographer snarls, but his actions contradict his words. He pulls Asahi to his chest to rest his chin over his shoulder. The ticklish sensation of hair against his neck causes him to break out into a smile. Mixed with his embarrassment, he hopes it translates as a shy partner and not someone faking being in a relationship with one of their friends. 

What would he do if this was Jaehyuk? He asks himself. He rests his hands over Mashiho’s delicate ones. After lightly pressing his fingers against them like it was a keyboard, his thoughts gradually settle. With his gaze fixed on the elder’s hand, he presses it gently to his lips. There’s a gasp from somewhere (he’ll bet it’s Hyunsuk).

“Nicely done,” Mashiho murmurs from behind him while digging his face into the crook of his neck.

“Sorry if that made anyone uncomfortable,” Asahi stutters, hoping it comes off as a nervous confession, “We aren’t really big on PDA.” His gaze settles solely on Jisung, unable to face his friends. He can already imagine the laugh Yoshi is going to have, Junkyu and Hyunsuk’s mutual shock, and Jihoon’s deadpan. 

However, their actions don’t seem to satisfy him. “Actually kiss.”

The artist feels his friend still behind him. Mashiho unwraps his arms from his waist and then braces his hand against Asahi’s shoulders, ready to push himself up. Before he can do anything, there’s a deafening screech of chairs.

“He doesn’t need to prove anything to you,” Jaehyuk growls. The unfamiliar tone redirects his attention, where he finds his best friend standing eye to eye with their waiter. Junkyu’s hand wraps gently around his wrist, but the action has no effect on the irritated man; he shakes it off.

It’s like a switch goes off in Jisung’s eyes because he takes a step closer to Jaehyuk. “Why are you mad?”

The other man shakes his head dismissively. “They’re just sitting there. Leave them alone.”

“But this doesn’t involve you?” He seems to search Jaehyuk’s expression for a bit. “Unless?” A finger points accusingly at Asahi.

There’s a slight tick of surprise on his face but with how quickly it appeared, it’s entirely possibly Asahi might’ve imagined it. “You’re literally harassing them-”

“Oh come on dude,” Jisung rolls his eyes, “I saw you pick him up every day after class last semester and try to hold his hand or wrap your arm around his shoulders. But he’d just pull away. Really sad, don’t you think?”

“Friend dynamics,” Jaehyuk replies easily. “It’s just how we work.” While his voice stays stable, the fury in his eyes tells another story.

“I mean it seems like you’ve moved on,” he continues, nodding at Junkyu behind him, “So free reign for me?” Asahi feels the elder move behind him, “Don’t even bother. He’s more uncomfortable around you than he is around him.”

“Back off.” He watches his best friend reach his arm out, pressing a firm grip into the waiter’s bicep. He seems steady, but his voice deepens slightly. “While I’m being civil.”

Jisung smirks, “You really wanna look down on me pretty boy?” He readies himself back, for the punch, but Jaehyuk rips his hand out of Junkyu’s grip and makes contact first. The waiter topples to the floor. His hand presses to his face and Asahi can’t help but squeeze his fists tighter when blood shines against his thumb. 

“I told you to stop.” When he looks over at Jaehyuk he sees an emotion, one of unbridled anger, that he’s never experienced before. He heard in high school that he would talk to people who gave him or Asahi shit for their sexualities, but he could never envision things getting physical. All he can imagine from the elder is natural joy and energy, bright sunflowers, cute eye smiles, and lines of banana milk ready to be consumed. 

Asahi is rendered speechless, barely able to understand what’s happening. Words escape him, both spoken by him and by others. He sees Jisung charge after him, but by this point, their waiter from before, as well as some of the others have come to take control of him. The girl is first, but she’s quickly brushed off, falling into Yoshi’s arms, whose initial surprise morphs into genuine irritation.

While hands grip the collar of Jaehyuk’s shirt and worry bubbles in the artist’s throat, Yoshi pushes them away. “Leave. I’ll handle it.” He tries for some words of disagreement, but Mashiho quickly drags him away. He makes eye contact with Junkyu; his arms are wrapped around an unmoving Jaehyuk. He can only see confusion before being pulled out of the restaurant completely. 

When they’re outside, the two of them can finally breathe. When he checks his phone, Jihoon and Hyunsuk said they’d run back to their dorms before they get caught in a mild scandal which is fair. Asahi very much wants to run back in, but that’ll probably just make things worse. But he just looks over at his friend.

“Was this an intricate plan you wanted to propose to me later on?”

Mashiho stands in guilty silence. 

“That’s a stupid plan, and you know that wouldn’t have worked!” he exclaims.

“Okay, no there was a strong possibility it could’ve. And how was I supposed to know,” he gestures at the restaurant’s door, “that would happen.”

The photographer has a point but it does nothing to quench his worries; Asahi paces back and forth exasperatedly. “Shouldn’t we go back in?”

His friend looks longingly at the door. “Let’s give 'em some time,” he says, foot patting nervously against the ground. 

Ten minutes pass after the two of them have sent texts to their best friends when Mashiho hears his phone ding. Asahi reads over his shoulder; that the two of them should go to one of their places and wait it out or something. 

“Which means we can just stay here?” Mashiho weakly proposes. They’re each other’s impulse control right now, and it seems like it’s Asahi’s turn to take the wheel. Instead of conceding, he takes his arm and drags him back to his place, the closer of the two dwellings.

** **** **  


When he’s being shaken awake, Asahi has no idea what time it is. He and Mashiho had decided to take a brief nap on the couch, remnants of finals still lingering in their systems. But he finds nothing left in his grasp, except one of the sofa cushions. After rubbing his eyes for a little bit, he finds his culprit: Jaehyuk.

“Looks like you had a rough night,” he comments maybe a bit too snidely because the elder looks clearly bothered. Asahi sits up to get a better look at him. “Are you okay?”

His best friend examines him for a few moments, not saying anything for a long while. “Why lie to me?” Jaehyuk finally says.

Asahi is taken aback at the accusation. “What are you even talking about?”

“Mashiho and the,” his hands move around randomly, “whatever that was back at the restaurant.”

The artist laughs at that, “He was just trying to help the flirting stop. Nothing more.”

“I don’t know. You’ve just been spending a lot of time with him, and I feel like we don’t see each other as often.”

He smiles sheepishly. “I mean, I could say the same for you and Junkyu?” He doesn’t want to be accusatory, because that’s not what he’s doing; it’s an observation. “You two have gone out on a lot of dates, being boyfriends.”

“Exactly,” he replies, “Which is why the two of you were dating.”

Asahi shakes his head, like usual. “No that’d be like. Dating my brother or cousin.”

Jaehyuk drops onto the couch, turning to look at him. “But if you guys are that comfortable, you might as well date then, right?”

Asahi is taken aback by the proposal. “What? We didn’t even fool the waiter, Jae.”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “It fooled me.”

Asahi stares at him for a while, trying to unpack whatever meaning is hidden behind those words. There's some pain and sadness, and maybe even confusion, but he can’t even begin to put together why.

“Well, we’ve just been busy,” he reasons, “And we’re going home next week. So if you’re desperate to spend time with me then,” he trails off.

The elder rests a hand on his over the back of the couch. “I don’t know. If Junkyu’s deterring the time we’re spending together,” it’s at that moment, Asahi notices that Jaehyuk has diverted his gaze, “Maybe we should break up.”

Silence falls between them as he thinks about what he should even say to that. Yes, he loves spending time with Jaehyuk, but he can’t help but love what makes him happier, more. “Sounds stupid,” he summarizes, “You love the time you spend with him and I like the way he makes you smile.”

“I like your smile too, Mada,” Jaehyuk easily replies. 

And it just charges the atmosphere between them too much. He can feel the heat of Jaehyuk’s palm on the back of his hand, the intensity of his gaze as it digs into his fingers. Unable to find anything familiar with the emotions, them still being all too new and foreign, the artist’s first instinct is to push them away. He can feel how well they fit in with his own, this mutual drawing of each other into one unit, unconditional adoration, and love. But being a homewrecker doesn’t feel particularly appealing. 

He slips his hand away and gets up. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed.”

Asahi has turned around when Jaehyuk calls out to him. “Can we talk more about this later?”

He pauses in the hallway but doesn’t face the elder. Hope inserts itself into his mind, that maybe, there’s something there in the signals he’s felt. “Is there anything more to discuss?” he poses.

Realism soon replaces that optimism. With the all too long of a pause, paired with his own mental reassurance, serving as answer enough, Asahi disappears into his bedroom. 

As much as he loves attention from Jaehyuk, maybe less is for the best.


	9. **an update but not liek a story update, sorries**

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i wrote a p sweet note because i love yall but, if you don't wanna read, i'm going on a brief (idk a month seems a lil long but) hiatus :>

hihi humans!!

so i think, I'll be taking a break for the rest of the month. i'm really sorry to keep any of you waiting for an update. hopefully, it'll be enough time to collect my thoughts properly and put my all into my grades. (but also if i do end up coming back spontaneously in the middle of this aforementioned hiatus, it was a stroke of genius that randomly came in my mind because that's entirely possible that'll happen lol.)

i'm a uni student, which i think some of you have deduced. my first exam period has already passed, but i have one coming in the next two weeks. i was super banking on like, just getting my degree, coming back home to get a teaching credential, but then my prof emailed me and was like you should try and conducting your own research and writing an honors thesis (yall i sincerely didn't even know i qualified for this,, i like, accidentally declared a second major). i've never done research. but hey i have an idea lowkey ready. if you do find anything about the influence of personal cisgender identity/expression on perceptions of nonbinary individuals and the usage of they/them pronouns, hopefully that'll be me at the top of that paper's name haha.

and i also have this writing thing i've been doing for a bit, but it's due by early December and i'm only about ten percent. it kind of is nanowrimo but not really because i started a week before November, but yes. (If you're a fan of The Boyz all I'll say is there's two different pieces, which both have alleyways, college students, and conspicuous non government affiliations)

but covid does a lot of things to you haha, like writing,, a 80K some words on an canon divergent fic about my favorite side pairing but also being in a certified funk for the past two weeks or so and I've been having difficulty garnering up any motivation to write, for which I apologize.

i say this a lot. but if you've been here since the beginning!! thank you so much for sticking around! i really appreciate reading your comments and the unbridled support you've given me. like seriously. y'all are so understanding and it makes my heart sing in explicable ways. i unconditionally adore all of you :>

i look forward to reading more of your comments when i come back!!

best,  
hxt_pxckets

p.s. also MMM is the best release they have come at me (but all your opinions are valid unless you support orange man because if then, blease leave we don't need your energy here :>)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll miss all of y'all 💜💜💜


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Jae,” he states, turning his fists into gentle pats, but the words seem to be ignored. “Jaehyuk. Yoon Jaehyuk.” There’s finally a hum against his neck; Asahi’s breath catches for just a moment. “Care to explain yourself?”
> 
> He mumbles a little bit, but it just tickles more than anything. After a few, firm slaps to his shoulders, telling him to either move away or speak louder, with a tighter embrace around his waist, the elder chooses the latter. 
> 
> “Maybe you should say something about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh yes hello; i've returned officially because i'm now actually on break hAH (and i lost an e hAH). 
> 
> many apologies for the delay.
> 
> this chapter has slowly grown in my drafts for weeks on end; my usual process is sitting down and just putting everything down on a page but as of recently, it's been much slower, but i'm pretty happy with the end result :>
> 
> we're nearing the end (I'll probs stick on another chapter because my writing style has weirdly transformed into excessive details because yes i love it) and thank you so much for sticking around :>

Before he knows it, almost a week has passed and it’s the day before he and Jaehyuk go back home. The elder continues to act as nothing has changed in their relationship, and Asahi can’t fathom how he maintains his bright personality. He’s not sure what the words are but whenever he spends too much time with him in a close space, he goes through this constant mental battle of both wanting to get closer and run away. 

The train is going to be just that, and he won’t have the scapegoat of his room to save him. Jihoon and Hyunsuk have to stay in the city a little longer for some promotions, and Yoshi had already booked his train ticket for the night before, leaving the two of them to make their travels by themselves.

So, in the hours before their departure and in a moment of peak procrastination, Asahi finds himself laying down on the floor, basking in the late morning sun, clothes not at all packed. 

After fiddling with his keyboard mindlessly but also somehow stumbling onto a chord progression he really liked the night before, his nose had been dug deep into his notebook as he was slowly writing lyrics, thinking about a specific shade of warm. Not much more than three hours of sleep was had, so just being able to splay himself in the warm living room, is more than enough to weigh his eyelids shut and steady his breathing. 

That is until the sunlight is blocked. 

“What are you doing?” Jaehyuk asks above him. His brain easily supplements the image of his playful and undeniably attractive smirk. Asahi attempts to swat him and the thoughts away, but without any sight to guide his arms, they pass swiftly through the air.

“Give me my sun back,” he mumbles, curling to his side and hugging Junghwan to his chest. It’s maybe not his wisest idea, the stuffed animal smelling more like his best friend than artificial fruit, but as much as he hates to admit it, the scent is a natural comforting agent. 

“You aren’t going to ask me where I’m going?”

Asahi whines, in dissent. (He doesn’t want to, having very strong suspicions that it’s Junkyu related, but he’s pretty sure that’s a part of best friend obligations). “You can tell me and not block the window.” 

To his relief, the warm rays hit his face again within seconds, but there’s also a faint thud next to him. He doesn’t have to open his eyes to know the other’s body lies parallel to his. Jaehyuk puts his arm out, fingers lightly tickling the nape of his neck. The sensation pulls the artist towards him, an indirect offer for the artist to use it as a pillow. However, he ignores the ministrations as best he can. 

The elder eventually gets impatient and starts smacking the floor. “Lay here.”

He groans, still annoyed by the interruption of his nap. “I am.”

“Move your head up,” Jaehyuk says. The artist just moves away from him, avoiding the comforting temptation. “Mada,” he whines.

“Your arm is just going to fall asleep,” he mumbles, “and then you’ll complain and I don’t wanna have to hear all of that nonsense because-”

“It’s my fault. Yes, yes. If I promise not to say anything, will you come back?”

He turns his body back around, an eye now slowly opened. Is he tempted? Definitely. But he fears how the contact will strengthen his feelings for the elder like literally any interaction has. He despises his behavior, especially his inability to control it. Gingerly, he finds himself inching closer and fitting the arm into the curve of his neck. The smile Jaehyuk gives him is undeniably satisfying, making his heart beat faster and his body feel warmer. So he shuts his eyes shut and attempts to purge his mind of any thoughts.

The silence in between them is comfortable, the blanket Asahi needs to fall back asleep. And it wouldn’t have stayed that way if Jaehyuk didn’t interrupt him again, this time by patting his chest. 

“Ask me,” he insists.

He does, albeit quietly and begrudgingly; it’s good enough for his best friend. He goes on a long discussion about how tonight's his and Junkyu’s 100 day anniversary (unfortunately it’s a repeat of what the internal countdown in his head has already told him), and that they plan on getting dinner, maybe playing some arcade games or going on a nice walk in the park, and finally staying over for the night. 

Wait.

“You’re sleeping over at his place?” 

Jaehyuk hums in acknowledgment. “We thought just to like. Share the evening with each other or something.”

That shoots him awake. His exclamation is free from judgment; people can do what they want. It’s just that it’s simply Jaehyuk. 

He quickly finds himself scrutinizing the man next to him, trying to collect any clues from his profile that allude to anything being wrong. His eyelids are shut, the corners of his mouth raised in a pleasant expression. 

What are you going to be doing? “You’ll be back in time for the train?” he poses. Why not spend the night with me? “It’s at 11 and I don’t want us to miss it.” 

Jaehyuk scoffs. “I’m always on time. You don’t need to worry.”

“I don’t know,” Asahi expresses, “It’s kind of just easy to lose time around people you care a lot about.” 

Jaehyuk turns to look at him, caging Asahi in between his arms and hovering over his body. Their faces are all too close together. “You’ve been different lately,” he murmurs.

The unfortunate thing is Asahi can’t even remember the last time he and Jaehyuk even fought. They’ve had harmless squabbles about who gets the last piece of meat during sad boy diners, how much Asahi is socially obligated to dress up during specific occasions, and maybe that one thing with the record label could count. But the first two can be attributed more to their friendly dynamic, and the third more of a mild disagreement, with Jaehyuk insisting that there was something simply fishy about the circumstances and Asahi being ignorant of the trade.

He even knows that whatever situation they’re in right doesn’t even qualify as a traditional argument. Maybe passively, if you count the internal conflict that Asahi goes through from time to time, but he’s able to keep his emotions at bay, for the most part, more content that he has the elder by his side even if it’s not in the way he wants.

It’s just a very unfamiliar tension. 

Ironically, the space between them is ever-growing, even as the label seems to keep its place. There’s a definite dissonance, as the definition of their friendship, one that he has for so long interpreted contingently to their interactions, slowly dissipates. He tries not to actively think about it; the acknowledgment knocks at his morale. 

He hates how his brain short circuits whenever the elder gets too close and instead of not overthinking it like a normal person, his body reacts with fast heartbeats and throwing common sense out the window. So of course, when Asahi’s regular reaction is to be irritated but later play into it, Jaehyuk’s bound to notice that behavioral change. 

No freezing up, or blank stares. Just them being them. 

Therefore, when he pushes Jaehyuk away and sits up, the two of them are taken aback. Asahi barely is able to put together what he’s done, and the elder’s gaze searches up and down the artist, unsure of what’s just happened.

“Sorry,” he mutters, “Instinct.” And before Jaehyuk can say anything about the situation, he turns away from him, hand reaching towards his phone. His fingers move by themselves, easily settling towards a name, unsurprisingly near the top of his messaging app.

**Private Chat between saHi and sHiHo  
_11:25_**

**saHi**  
did you know this was happening

 **sHiHo**  
wHAt  
What’s happening?  
Are you okay?

 **saHi**  
jae is staying at your place for the night

 **sHiHo**  
He’s what  
Um  
nO  
Kyu didn’t say anything

 **saHi**  
well  
that’s what jae just told me

 **sHiHo**  
Are you  
HeCk

Asahi is unable to stop himself from smiling at their situation. The whole thing is pretty stupid, but this moment seems to be a slap in the face for both of them. 

But there’s one thing he can do to alleviate their mutual stress.

 **saHi**  
come over for the night

The bubble appears and disappears for a little bit until he gets a concrete response from the elder.

 **sHiHo**  
What

 **saHi**  
it’ll be like a roommate exchange of sorts

 **sHiHo**  
….  
It  
That isn’t the same

 **saHi**  
just take the help  
i’m giving you a place to stay while you’re being sexiled

Asahi has never really put much thought into sex or engaging in the act with a partner. Call him weird, but the tenderness of their interactions is more than enough for him. His imagination never strays towards the explicit but stays in the scheme of prolonged eye contact, sweet cheek kisses, and maybe a brief contact of lips, something he also admits he has not personally experienced.

 **sHiHo**  
N o  
yOU  
SAHI  
YOU CANT JUST

But now, with his self-insert, there are flashes of trailing hands, articles of clothes lost, skin to skin contact in places that he’d never put much thought to. It makes his toes curl a little bit, and his brain turns a bit fuzzy.

 **saHi**  
What  
Isn’t that what they’re probably gonna do?

He hates the control he loses whenever he thinks about Jae. *cue the only exception by paramore in the background*

 **sHiHo**  
HAMADA ASAHI  
STOP PUTTING  
INDECENT IMAGES  
INTO MY HEAD

Of course, he doesn’t concede to Mashiho.

 **saHi**  
I DIDNT DO ANYTHING DAMMIT  
I CANT CONTROL YOUR BRAIN  
JUST COME OVER FOR THE NIGHT

 **sHiHo**  
FI NE 

They attempt to coordinate things to do, and their plans go quite smoothly. A few rumbles from his stomach later, he instinctively finds himself sitting up and heading towards the kitchen for a snack. Mashi suggests some fun, high energy activities like karaoke or an escape room, but Asahi really wants to work on his music more or maybe find a nice art class to do. Even baking.

He’s abruptly stopped by a hand around his wrist. 

Asahi sighs. “Yes, Jae?”

“You didn’t say anything.”

“To what?”

“You acting weird.”

The artist does a quick shake, easily getting out of his predicament, and heads towards the cabinets to grab the big bag of cheese crackers. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He stands on the tips of his toes to grab the bag, but his best friend easily reaches over him and puts it down next to him. When he spins back around so they’re face to face, he spares a glance up at Jaehyuk, who is intently staring back at him, “Genuinely.” 

The elder blinks at him, taken aback. “I mean, we haven’t spent as much time around each other.”

He exhales deeply. “We definitely talked about this last week.”

“I know but-” Asahi turns around to grab a bowl. 

“And didn’t we decide there was nothing left to talk about?” He takes the bag and portions some of it onto a plate. “That night weird for both of us and you were spewing nonsense,” Asahi chuckles caustically to himself, “Breaking up with your boyfriend? Like what was that.” The moment he puts the bag aside, he hears it being picked up and returned to its spot. It’s the perfect opportunity for him to make his escape. 

An arm shoots out, blocking his way. “I was being serious.”

The artist shakes his head, slowly accepting his defeat, and sits up on the kitchen counter. He slowly satiates his cravings while arguing back. “You were being delusional. Probably the cortisol and adrenaline coursing through your veins or some shit,” he moves his limbs quickly, emphasizing his point, “You actually thought Mashi and I were dating.”

“I think that was a valid argument!”

He braces his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “It’s not when I insisted to you time and time again that we’re brothers.” He claps to emphasize the syllables. “Bro. Thers.”

“And I just said I want to go back to how things were, but I guess the two of us don’t have ears.”

“Jaehyuk,” Asahi sighs exasperatedly, “how do you not realize how crazy you sound. You and Junkyu have such a good dynamic. It’s literally all I think you talk about with me,” (when they do talk) he jokes. “Even if there have been changes in our dynamic, I’m still here, your best friend who won’t leave your side.” He sees Jae’s mouth open to retort, and instead of letting him speak, pours a few pieces of goldfish into his mouth. “You might not like it, but change is inevitable. Nothing will always be the same. That’s just how the world works.”

He stares at Jaehyuk, curious to hear his response.

“Is Mashiho spending the night here?”

Asahi’s gaze flickers down to his phone screen and back up to the elder. “Did you read my texts?”

“You were right there,” Jae defends, patting his leg, “I was just staring at you, but your phone happened to be there too, right over your shoulder.”

The artist scoffs. “A shitty excuse.”

“Sorry,” he whines. Jaehyuk pouts, squishing his cheeks in his hand, in a weak attempt at an apology. He’s cute, and it does somewhat soothe his irritation. 

Asahi nods, acting like he’s acknowledged the elder. “He is.”

The other’s eyes travel around his face curiously, an answer not coming quickly. There’s a somewhat familiar emotion, but he’s not sure what it is. 

“I don’t get what the big deal is,” the artist continues, “He’s done it before.”

“When I was here,” Jaehyuk reasons. His face has gone back to normal, hands resting on opposite sides of Asahi’s legs. He can feel the heat radiating from his forearms.

“There’s no difference.”

The elder shakes his head at that. “No there’s opportunity to-” he pauses for a moment, which does not go unmissed by Asahi. The artist stares at him expectantly, to be simply met with a flush of red across his cheeks.

So he finishes the thought for him. “Desecrate the space.” The lack of eye contact confirms his suspicions and causes him to roll his eyes, “Don’t be hypocritical. I probably wouldn’t want to. It would be weird here.”

“SO YOU ADMIT IT TO THINKING ABOUT IT,” Jaehyuk exclaims. Asahi signs, not knowing what to do with this fool he’s so hopelessly in love with. Like, why couldn’t he have enough brain cells to think things through?

“You know that’s not what that meant, Jae. It was a theoretical situation. You know me,” he stares intensely up at the elder until they have proper eye contact. He lets a lot slide, but this is getting ridiculous. “I literally have told you that I’m really not that interested in doing anything sexual because the thought just,” he wiggles his fingers, “makes me uncomfy.” 

Jaehyuk huffs. “But around me, you said it was okay.” Moments in Jaehyuk’s room, crowded behind a laptop, googling things, figuring out anatomy, understanding new sensations, all experiences that shaped their sexual awakening, appear in his brain. 

“Yes,” Asahi begins, “With you, it’s different. Because it’s you and we have known each other for years, and we have a bond that naturally lets me open up to you and relax around you.” He doesn’t realize it, but his voice raises a little, and he can feel the vein in his neck, tense a bit. “Why are you being like this?” he pleads, “It’s literally nothing. I said nothing about you going over to Junkyu’s place or your potential sex life.”

“We haven’t done anything beyond kissing,” Jaehyuk exclaims. Honestly, an unnecessary detail that makes Asahi’s heart clench in a weird way (even though he’s already aware of it), but he ignores it. 

“Okay, cool,” the artist acknowledges, “I know that. You told me. But if I am doing anything with Mashi,” he pauses to emphasize, “Which I am not, I don’t have to disclose that to you.”

The elder rests his hands on Asahi’s thighs and leans in closer. “So are you okay with me doing stuff with Kyu?” He slowly moves the legs in and out thoughtlessly. 

“I literally should not have a say in the situation,” he continues, “I have no obligation to you, therefore you have no obligation to me.”

Unexpectedly, Jaehyuk’s arms loop around his waist and pull him in for a hug, him now standing in the space between his legs. His nose trails along the base of his neck, and with the breaths blowing against his collarbones and shoulder, Asahi feels himself freeze up for a moment. Fingers brush gently along the ridges of his spine and force him to unconsciously grip the other man’s back tighter. 

“Jae,” he states, turning his fists into gentle pats, but the words seem to be ignored. “Jaehyuk. Yoon Jaehyuk.” There’s finally a hum against his neck; Asahi’s breath catches for just a moment. “Care to explain yourself?”

He mumbles a little bit, but it just tickles more than anything. After a few firm slaps to his shoulders, telling him to either move away or speak louder, with a tighter embrace around his waist, the elder chooses the latter. 

“Maybe you should say something about it.”

First comes the initial, pre processed shock. But eventually, the words fit together in the puzzle they are. Asahi wouldn’t call himself dense; he understands what the elder is implying. However, he doesn’t want to be the one to jump the gun. The indirect confession is confusing and the artist doesn’t know what to say.

“It isn’t my place,” he reiterates, “I don’t want to ruin what makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.” 

As much as his stomach flutters, it’s quickly offset by the unease the precarious situation instigates. “If you’re saying what I think you’re saying,” The hope sparkling in the elder’s eyes almost stops him from going any further, but they’re getting too close to what could be. He gently pushes him away, “figure yourself out first.”

He takes the other’s shocked state to escape his confines and to throw his now empty bowl into the sink. With a glance at his phone, he notices a long string of texts from Mashiho. He seems to have continued the conversation without him, proposing different paths for them to take. Asahi’s admittedly slightly disappointed at the itinerary for the evening, but there seems to be enough activity and lack thereof for the two of them.

**Private Chat between saHi and sHiHo  
_11:43_**

**sHiHo**  
no response means we good?  
I mean you aren’t reading  
But i like already made the reservations  
pFFFFFT  
Love youuuuuuuu  
Okay imma come get you in thirty  
Look hot or something

 **saHi**  
i always look hot  
what are you talking about

 **sHiHo**  
Just dont wear some sweats and hoodie bullshit

 **saHi**  
b y e

At least getting ready is enough of a distraction for him to not comfort his distraught friend.

** **** **  


“Thanks for this,” Mashiho exhales while they tumble into the karaoke room, dramatically throwing his bag on the couch.

Asahi scoffs. “You’re the one who forced me out of my apartment.” Truth be told, he had been in a really good place, composing wise. The song was something he’d been working on, by himself, whenever he gets into these little funks. The old, 80’s films he’s been mindlessly watching, paired with their soundtracks have influenced the sound. “I can’t believe Jaehyuk wants to spend the night over at our place.”

The artist laughs somewhat caustically at that, taking a seat in the farthest corner out of habit. “Boyfriends,” he summarizes. The artist quietly watches the elder take the console, finding a song to sing, while he takes the tambourine from the table and lightly pats the cymbals. The dings, while faint, replace the silence in the room. 

Eventually, the photographer settles on some pop song Asahi recognizes from middle school. While he doesn’t get up to join him, unable to find the energy or motivation to do so, he claps the instrument to the rhythm, hopping slightly to the beat. His mouth naturally moves to shape the words, but no sound is released. 

After a few songs, Mashiho seems to be somewhat exasperated. He’s been bringing out full-on performances, filled with jumping and excitable dancing, but his one man audience isn’t giving him much energy back. 

“It’s only me, Sahi,” the elder chides teasingly. He moves towards him, leaving the uncanny Shinee instrumental to play in the background. His hands wrap lightly around Asahi’s wrists as he pulls him towards the middle of the room, “At least try to have a good time.”

With a hand wrapped tightly around the mic, and a quick side-eye, he lets go for a moment and starts to scream out the lyrics he somewhat knows. Half of what comes out of his mouth are noises that can be somewhat interpreted as words, but only vaguely qualifies. The night continues onwards as they eat snacks and drink water they snuck in their bags while singing some popular Japanese rock ballads just to. 

Asahi chaotically dances as coordinated as Mashiho. The elder freestyles a little bit, an excuse for the younger to hype him up an embarrassing amount. It's familiar and nice, a proximity he's missed, but as much as he does enjoy the photographer's company it doesn't completely fill up the space in his chest.

** **** **  


As the night dwindles away, Asahi feels some of his energy-draining, and he's finally able to drag the elder out of the room, but not without a small bribe of food and alcohol. Well, actually, alcohol then food. The two of them stop by a convenience store and buy two bottles of soju and three cans of beer. It's why they end up somewhat tipsy while walking down the street arm in arm. 

"I had pizza last night," the photographer pouts, "Can't we get something nicer like meat."

"Why didn't you say something before we got alc," he giggles, "Now we gotta drunk order food like idiots."

There's a loud snap and a point. Asahi automatically presses his nose against the outstretched finger "Burgers. Bread and meat. And you can kind of count the tomatoes as tomato sauce."

The artist blinks at his friend somewhat confusedly, but also feels himself nodding on instinct. "We're still drunk."

His friend waves him off. "Don't overthink it."

Mashiho's a bit hypocritical for that because as soon as they somehow obtain their food, they stumble into a park and sit side by side on a set of swings, kind of sobering up. 

"Why," Mashiho huffs, in between chews of fries, "Why can't we just be happy with each other?"

Asahi peers at him over his milkshake. "We are."

"But like in the way Junkyu and Jaehyuk are happy."

The artist smiles to himself at that, the sentiment being all too familiar to a high school Jaehyuk. "You don't need a partner to be happy."

Mashiho sticks his tongue out at him. "Wow, you're so cool with your healthy sense of identity and personal independence." He swings back and forth in his place.

Asahi can't help but laugh at that. The artist rips a part of his burger off, placing the bite sized piece into his mouth. "But honestly, you're great by yourself. As a performer, an artist, and just a general person."

The elder dusts off the nonexistent dirt on his jeans and stands up. He holds the chains above Asahi and leans in, "Says you producer artist man."

"You too. But like," he waves

"I could always teach you." The proposal immediately makes his nose crinkle. "It isn't that bad."

"Just not a fan," he concludes, "I'll stick with my laziness in the," he pauses unable to figure out how to distinguish his art from Mashiho's, "Studio arts."

The elder is unimpressed. "I dance in a studio."

Asahi rolls his eyes, "You know what I mean." And quickly returns to his food. The quiet between them is comfortable. It's after a few moments, when Mashiho doesn't sit back down that he offers a piece of his burger to the elder. 

However, the food is left to cool. As he eats it himself, he stares up at the photographer, questioningly. "You good?"

"Sahi," Mashiho asks him all too softly, "Why can't we just date?"

The artist sighs, trying to unpack the emotions in the elder's expression. "It wouldn't feel right."

"Look at us. We're comfortable around each other,” he lightly pats the younger’s head, “We do couple things. We like each other; we tell each other we love each other."

There's a lot of frustration and general sadness. However, it isn't directed towards their relationship, he knows that much. "Not in the way that you want. We don't love each other more than platonically."

In his peripherals, he spots Mashiho's fists tightening around the chains. Asahi reaches up and slowly unravels the fingers, preventing the nails from digging into his skin. Instead, he laces their hands together in a light embrace, swaying them back and forth lightly. 

"We could learn," the elder concludes. But his tone goes up slightly, asking a question, one that honestly, both of them know the answer to. 

"We could learn," Asahi repeats. The proposal isn't terrible. Maybe it'll be similar to Jaehyuk, whereas he grows more and more comfortable with the elder, he could reach a point of being a romantic interest. Perhaps sometime in the future. "But," He reaches up, barely able to brush a stray tear away with the pad of his finger. Not right now; it's simply not where his feelings sit. "That's just forcing things. Your heart is with Kyu; mine is with Jae. If we date, it's like we're trying to deflect our feelings."

"And that isn't terrible," Mashiho replies unconvincingly, "We can be each other's distractions and-"

"Isn't that what we already do?" the artist observes with a sad smile, "Ironically, we're just reminders and distractions from our realities." He stands up from his seat so that he can properly look at his friend in the eye. "We don't need to be dating for that." His hands untangle from the other's grasp to cradle his face instead, gently brushing some of his hair away. "I know you want your feelings to be reciprocated, but when there's nothing in the first place," he finds himself blinking a few times, successfully warding the tears away, "what can be returned?"

To be honest, Asahi has entertained the prospect before, and this is the conclusion he's come to time and time again. It's odd verbalizing, to be actually conversing about it. It's weird, when his opposite seems to acknowledge the same, frustration bursting, and tears rushing down his face. 

The elder rests his forehead against Asahi's shoulder and starts to petulantly hit his chest, a weak punch emphasizing each word he says. "Why. Do. You. Have. To. Be. So. Smart." 

Asahi brings his face up so he can see it properly. "Not smart. Rational."

Mashiho mimics him again, "nOt sMarT." He lets out a deep sigh and slowly backs away from the contact. His limbs wave around, stretching. "Fuck, now I'm embarrassed."

The artist shakes his head while he collects the remnants of their meal to throw away. "I get it. I wouldn't have done that, but I get where you're coming from." He hears Mashiho's footsteps before he feels the hand rest in the crook of his elbow. "Let's go back to my place." He notes the faint red against his cheekbones as he wipes more tears from his face.

** **** **  


They're blocks away from his apartment when Asahi feels himself being pulled back. "I wish I was in love with you," he hears Mashiho murmur behind him, "I know you can't believe people aren't in love with Jae, but I don't understand how he doesn't love you."

"I'm happy you think that highly of me," he replies bittersweetly, while pressing the sleeve of his jacket against his eyes, absorbing the tears, "But it's probably for the same reasons you don't love me."

Mashiho's hand moves down his arm, touches lightly tickling his forearm, and intertwines his fingers with Asahi's for a comforting squeeze. 

"I want to cuddle," the photographer requests, but it's more of a command if anything. His eyes glisten, both from his cry and excitement. 

Asahi sighs in faux disdain. "Really?"

"We'll feel better," he promises, "It'll be a nice post-simp session vibe."

The artist laughs in disbelief, "You're going to reduce our heart to heart to a simp session?"

Mashiho shrugs. "Coping mechanism." And then runs away. From a distance he yells. "Hurry up!"

Asahi does not do that, instead yelling back, "You know you can't get in without my keys!"

** **** **  


The morning is hectic, to say the least. 

The artist wakes up the next morning to his phone’s shrill ringing. He reaches over the man wrapped in his chest to pick up the device. However just as it passes over his ear, the older man flinches at the sound, and then groans. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, letting his free hand card itself gently through the lilac strands. 

“What time is it?”

He puts the phone closer to his weak eyes and is able to barely make out the number. “10:11.”

“Shouldn’t you get up then?” Mashiho asks. His arm shoots over Asahi’s chest and his face digs deeper into his shoulder.

“I can’t if you’re like this,” he replies, lightly patting his butt.

The elder whines, gripping his body tighter. “You’re warm and I want to sleep.”

Asahi immediately looks around for Junghwan, disappointed to find that he probably left the cow in the living room. 

“Mamo,” he states, “I have to pack my stuff and shower.”

“A few more minutes,” the elder murmurs, “I’ll pack while you get ready.”

Asahi scoffs. “I doubt you’d know what to pack.” He slowly starts to sit up, slightly lifting the body on top of him.

Mashiho quickly reacts and pushes him back down, hovering over his body, a mischievous expression on his face. “Just because you don’t know how to dress doesn’t mean I hate everything about your wardrobe.”

Asahi easily pushes him and throws the blanket over him. “Throw things into the bag at this point. I need to leave soon.” And he rushes into the restroom. Everything happens in an instant. He brushes his teeth, washes his body, goes through his face routine, gets his clothes on, and cleans up all his toiletries to throw in a bag that is also miraculously packed. 

He quickly picks up the cow with one hand and holds his breakfast in his other. They pour leftover ramen that neither recall making into disposable cups and drink them while waiting for the bus to arrive. Mashiho complains about the temperature, but Asahi slaps him over the head, and reinforces whose fault it is that they’re drinking cold overnight ramen. Luckily there are no delays, but even with such good conditions, they arrive only five minutes before boarding ends. He’s able to spot Jaehyuk and his obvious concern from a mile away, Junkyu comfortably patting his shoulder. 

“Sorry!” he exclaims half out of breath, “Woke up late. Hopefully have everything.”

As he gets closer, he spots the two energy drink cans on the bench next to them. 

A sleepless night. 

“Might be an imbalance in underwear to sweatshirts,” he hears Mashiho mumble next to him much less out of breath, “But should be enough for the break!”

Junkyu giggles at that. “We already said our goodbyes,” he quickly explains. 

Asahi stares at his friend; it’s an apparent cue to launch himself in his arms. The artist isn’t the strongest, so he stumbles around until he can maintain his footing. “I can’t believe people don’t call you a koala,” he mutters.

“Kyu’s only learned from the best.” It’s a nice hug, and he appreciates the friendship they’ve fostered, grateful that they have each other to lean on. “Don’t be a dumb bitch while I’m gone,” he whispers.

He gently pats the older’s head, more like the back of it because that’s as far as he can reach. “You too.”

And then within moments, Junkyu has wrapped his arms around Mashiho’s torso and pulled him off. A hand circles Asahi’s wrist, dragging him into the train. “Bye!” Jaehyuk exclaims behind him. Asahi waves accordingly. Junkyu mimics his movements, an arm still resting comfortably around Mashi’s waist (he’ll tease the elder about that later) who is dramatically blowing kisses at them. 

“You think with that kind of goodbye, you’d be going off to service,” his best friend jokes. His hands have moved up to Asahi’s shoulders, leading him in the directions of their seats. 

“I’m a foreigner,” he deadpans. 

Jaehyuk laughs. “I know, but I think the analogy made sense.” After squeezing past many people, dodging children, and avoiding loose suitcases, they reach their seats. The elder puts his stuff up, and once he’s pushed it all to one side, puts his hands out for Asahi’s. 

“Mashi is just a stupidly sentimental person.”

As he moves all the way into the window seat, the elder quickly joins him. “True.”

Their conversation doesn’t continue until the train starts to move and after the conductor has checked their tickets. 

“How was your evening?” Jaekhyuk asks. 

Asahi plays with Junghwan’s ears, flapping the small pieces of fabric up and down. “Not bad. Just did some karaoke and got dinner. Talked. Nothing special.” When he turns to face his best friend, there’s an expectation in his eyes, and being the weak-hearted person he is, the artist asks the same.

The elder yawns and nods. He rests his head on Asahi’s shoulder while intertwining their hands together. “Good.”

He puts the stuffed cow into Jaehyuk’s lap and stares out of the window at the passing city. 

“Good,” he quietly repeats.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you hear about Jae’s boyfriend?” he poses after turning away. Abrupt? Oh most definitely, but logic tends not to apply to the frazzled mind. “He’s the sweetest guy, especially in his tastes, who cares for Jae with all of his heart. He’s funny and awkward and super handsome.”
> 
> Jaehyuk’s mom chuckles from the front seat. “That’s an awful lot of self-praise, Asahi.”
> 
> “No, not me,” he quickly answers, “It’s-”
> 
> “No one,” Jaehyuk quickly cuts in, his gaze stopping Asahi from speaking anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twoish months too late, but school's been a bit hectic ;-;
> 
> HAPPY SIX MONTHS TO THIS STORY!!
> 
> thank all of you who have stayed around!

There are definitely some points during the train ride over, where Asahi wishes the vehicle would crash and burn, maybe like an overdramatic depiction of his emotions. But that’s also him just being overly cynical and wanting to avoid his problems. 

There’s no way, nor anywhere, to run as he acts as Jaehyuk’s pillow. His heart beats too fast to sleep, brain too active; all he can do is think about the strands of hair brushing next to his face, and the warm patch on his chest where Jae exhales. 

So of course, he shoots up the moment the train stops at their stop, almost accidentally ramming Jaehyuk into the seat in front of them; he promises to buy him ice cream to make him feel better (i.e. stop his pouting). Luckily, Jaehyuk’s parents are already there, excitedly waiting for their arrival. The Yoon’s pull their son and Asahi (at this point, could also be considered their child, although the artist will constantly refuse the title) into a tight hug, questions running a mile a minute as they ask for updates on their first year of school. 

The artist is relatively concise, avoiding any details he deems irrelevant like just that he’s been releasing some music, and that his classes have been mediocre; it turns out that doesn’t even matter, because his best friend naturally supplements them, noting his latest success as a producer and artist, especially how he’d won a national contest and resultantly been contracted to make a few patterns for an independent line of stationery. 

While Jaehyuk continuously recalls what had happened these last few months, trying to explain why his hair looked like peach yogurt, why he looked so much skinnier, and other details his mother seemed to catch, Asahi’s phone suddenly buzzes beneath his palm; it’s Mashi.

**Private Chat between saHi and sHiHo  
_14:28_**

**sHiHo**  
YOU KNOW SOMETIMES  
I THINK MEN ARE NOT TERRIBLE  
AND THEN THEY JUST DISAPPOINT ME  
CAN YOU CALL  
BECAAUSE IM ABOUT TO  
BEAT A FUCKIN MAN

 **saHi**  
not rn

 **sHiHo**  
MORE SPECIFICALLY 

**saHi**  
why

 **sHiHo**  
ONE  
LEE JAEHYUK

Oh.

 **saHi**  
oh  
why

 **sHiHo**  
CALL ME WHEN YOU CAN

 **saHi**  
YOU CANT JUST  
NOT TELL ME

 **sHiHo**  
WILL LET MY FIST  
CONNECT WIH HIS FACE

As he’s about to type in another plea/question, Jaehyuk’s mom calls his name. 

“Why aren’t you planning on going back to Osaka?” 

Asahi can only shrug. “Flights were more expensive than we thought,” he explains, “And Sana is here somewhere, anyways, so they thought I’d be fine.” His family naturally isn’t the most sentimental bunch, but they take it a step further in not treasuring traditional cultural beliefs of congregating during major holidays. He’s so sure the Yoon’s know the answer to that, but the artist also doesn’t blame them for asking; sometimes you have to hear something a few times (even if it has been at least the 8th time) before it completely settles into your brain. 

No hate against Jae’s mom; she’s a wonderful person, with so many of her best traits like her charisma and bubbliness, passed down to her son. Plus he can’t complain, especially since they’re letting him stay with them. Her husband sits at the steering wheel, quietly nodding at everything she says. He’s the opposite of his wife, quiet and analytical, but is also intelligent and selfless, much like Jaehyuk is. 

As he’s finishing his sentence, yawning and eyes slowly blinking through the inevitable moisture his tear ducts have decided to form, he sees Jaehyuk staring at him with an intensity that makes him want to sink into the seats, but also want to ask what he’s thinking about. 

“Did you hear about Jae’s boyfriend?” he poses after turning away. Abrupt? Oh most definitely, but logic tends not to apply to the frazzled mind. “He’s the sweetest guy, especially in his tastes, who cares for Jae with all of his heart. He’s funny and awkward and super handsome.”

Jaehyuk’s mom chuckles from the front seat. “That’s an awful lot of self-praise, Asahi.”

“No, not me,” he quickly answers, “It’s-”

“No one,” Jaehyuk quickly cuts in, his gaze stopping Asahi from speaking anymore. Confusion fills his mind, his best friend's words juxtaposing what he had seen hours ago. 

They’re at a stop sign, and the artist can’t miss the way Jaehyuk’s parents stare at each other in silent communication. 

“Yet?” Jaehyuk’s mom asks.

The question goes unanswered.

** **** **  


After arriving at Jaehyuk’s home, his parents had quickly swept their son away for a meal together, insisting that Asahi could join, but he refused, saying that his sister would come to pick him up and treat him to dinner. It wasn’t true when he said it, but luckily enough, Sana was free for the evening and was open to the offer. 

With time to kill, Asahi finds himself in Jaehyuk’s room, prying the window open, and crawling out to sit on the small roof landing. While admittedly a bit chilly, there is always something comforting in the setting sun that returns a more familiar, metaphorical orange warmth. 

His earbuds sing the mellow beat he’s made for weeks, the one his friends had been teasing him for sounding too outdated to be popular. To that, he blames nobody but himself and the slew of familiar vinyls he’d been playing in his room, ones that had once been owned by his parents. It was a genre he was feeling, the dreamlike, filled with swelling synths, simple drums, and the organ setting on his keyboard that he never thought he would use. 

Fingers naturally tap into the notes app, with snippets of lyrics he’s had for a while, mostly short poems that encapsulate all the thoughts he has never verbalized (mostly about Jaehyuk). He finds himself mouthing some of the words to himself as they fit maybe too perfectly in some places. 

Asahi has only cleaned up what he thinks could be the chorus when the promise he had made pierces his comfortable haze in the form of mamo appearing on his phone screen. He accepts the call and immediately switches back to his lyrics. 

“Hi,” he greets. 

“Jaehyuk broke up with Junkyu,” Mashiho says in a not very even tone. 

His fingers naturally still, “Are you sure?”

“Am I sure,” Mashiho sputters, “we were taking the bus home and Kyu has this distanced expression on his face, and like he insists he’s okay but his smile didn’t reach his eyes, so I was really worried? I kept asking if he was okay and he nodded. But then, then, his phone turned on and his lockscreen wasn’t Jaehyuk like it had been for the last few months.”

“Don’t tell me you asked him,” Asahi sighs. 

“Well, I had no idea what else to do,” his friend defends, “With that stupid bittersweet smile, Kyu nodded and then told me not,” he trails off.

“What did he tell you not to do?” In the back of his head, he knows the answer but just needs verbal confirmation.

“Not to cook anything when we got home?” he replies, but with the way his tone rises at the end, the lie is very obvious. After a little while, the silence probably intimidates the older, Mashiho quietly replies, “Not to tell you.” The artist isn’t surprised; it’s a very Mashiho thing to do. 

“Then,” Asahi raises his voice, “WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TELLING ME?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” exasperation clear in his voice, “I FEEL LIKE YOU SHOULD KNOW.”

Asahi sits there, eyes still fixed on the horizon as he digests all of this information. As much as he wishes his best friend had told him, he knows he doesn’t have to. But, why hadn’t Jaehyuk told him yet? The idiot. He didn’t think it would actually happen. 

“Why,” Mashiho asks, “what do you mean you didn’t think it would happen. Were you expecting this?”

Asahi stares out at the horizon, gaze tracing the lines of clouds in the sky, and sighs, deciding that rather than covering his blunder, he might as well tell the elder everything that had been going on in the past few weeks. The artist almost wishes he had a powerpoint presentation but that would probably be going a little overboard. He starts with the night of the weird dinner confrontation thing with offering to break up with Junkyu, and then what had happened yesterday, the icing on the cake. 

“He wanted you,” he repeats, “To say something about their relationship?” Asahi hums in agreement. “So he’s fucking stupid, and wanted you to make the first move.”

“Not necessarily,” Asahi sighs. A notification appears from the top of his phone, a text from his sister.

**Private Chat between 💜💜💜 and 🤖🤖🤖  
_17:48_**

**💜💜💜**  
i’m here

 **🤖🤖🤖**  
omw

“I think it was more just him asking me if I was interested, and showing that he would be willing to do all of that if I was. I told him to figure himself out, but I didn’t realize this would happen.”

Pocketing his phone, Asahi shifts back inside. The photographer groans on the other side of the phone. “Now I can’t be as mad at him. Or that anger has passed. Well I can, but I can’t act upon it.”

“Why?”

“You like each other and I can’t leave you lonely.”

He makes sure the door window is locked behind him before rushing downstairs. “I mean, he isn’t my partner yet.” He has brief reminders of his own experiences in protecting Jaehyuk, “And just wait until we’re back on campus because I don’t think I can stop you alone.”

Mashiho whines, “If Yoshi’s there then there’s no chance.”

His arms quickly move through the sleeves of his jacket and he takes the spare set of keys hanging from the wall. “Exactly.” That and his phone are thrown into the bag rushedly put on his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be giving me false hope.” Asahi attempts to put his shoes on without using his hands, but it just results in the material uncomfortably bunching up in all the wrong places. While adjusting the tongues, his spare hand pulls the door open, allowing him to inefficiently hop through the door. 

“And you shouldn’t be threatening to beat up my best friend,” he retorts.

The photographer quickly corrects him, “Boyfriend.” He gives himself a moment to properly collect himself, smoothing out some clothes, adjusting the bag over his chest, and pulling up the edges of his socks. 

“Hopefully that’ll be the same thing soon enough.” Before Mashiho can tease him, an all too sweet voice sounds from somewhere behind him. 

“Hey, dumb bitch.”

After locking the front door, Asahi turns around to see his sister standing very comfortably against her car, dressed as fashionably as a young lawyer can be during the winter. Her arms are outstretched in his direction, gesturing him to approach. 

“IS THAT SANA!” Mashiho screams from the phone. The artist hangs up, immediately crouching into a defense position, legs in a wide squat, and arms stretched out with his arms hanging down. He waddles his way towards her until he’s just in between her arms. 

Asahi smiles, “Slut.” And he slaps her arms down, choosing to brush past her and open the front car door. 

“Fucking respect your elders, damn,” she mutters jokingly under her breath.

** **** **  


They’re driving towards some restaurant that somehow just opened in the year that he was at school when his sister speaks up. He doesn’t remember her ever telling him she got such a nicely decked-out car, but the artist is also terrible and maintaining a proper conversation with any of his family members.

“Tell me,” she begins, “How I found out through my boyfriend that you aren’t dating Yoon Jaehyuk, yet.”

Asahi is very much taken aback. “Hello to you too,” he greets, “It’s nice to see you, Sana. Yeah, I’ve been great. And you?

“I will beat the living crap out of you,” she states, raising a fist threateningly, “How did you not figure it out until now?”

“Which part? That Jaehyuk likes me or that I like him?” The first part sends a weird sensation across his body. It’s nice to think about, the reciprocated feelings, maybe akin to excitement? But the circumstances prevent that joy from fully forming. 

Sana cackles. “You mean you didn’t like him before?”

“I realized like a few months ago, dammit,” he retorts, leaning back into the car seat, “But I can’t do jack shit because he has this stupidly perfect boyfriend.”

“Had,” she corrects. Asahi’s head shoots up at that. 

“How do you know that?” Correction: How did everyone know before him?

She continues, not paying any attention to her clearly distraught sibling. “So when Jinhwan told me he had a brother who goes to your university, I didn’t think much of it. But then he mentioned that he started dating this guy who won’t shut the hell up about his best friend, which is awfully familiar.” A pointed stare towards the artist. 

“I don’t do that anymore!” he exclaims.

She giggles, continuing. “So that’s why I kept pestering you about whether or not you had a partner. But you kept saying no, your mood gradually soured, and Jaehyuk was never really around when I called you. Mashi and Yoshi were,” she pauses for a moment, commenting offhandedly, “we love some good Japanese boys. And naturally, I jumped to conclusions.”

“Junkyu is Jinhwan’s brother.” 

“And Jae has been dating him for the last few months, but apparently things weren’t the best with them? Like if anything, they were both putting the work into it, but there was something about their dynamic that didn’t stop. Like yes, Junkyu talks about his successful photographer friend and his art, but-”

“Mashi,” he quickly cuts in. “Junkyu’s friend.”

Luckily they’re at a red light when Sana almost brake checks the car behind her. “What the fuck.” Asahi just gives her two awkward thumbs up. He’s surprised she hadn’t put the pieces together, already, but also he can’t blame her; she probably hasn’t seen the two of them in the same place. “There’s way too much overlap for this to be acceptable,” she sighs. “But oppositely, Jaehyuk just wouldn’t stop mentioning you apparently.”

Asahi laughs bitterly at that, “He could talk about me but barely make time for me?”

His sister rolls her eyes at that, “I have never heard you be so petty,” she slaps his leg hard while proceeding to drive forward more, “Be more sympathetic towards him. I think he was really trying to make the relationship work.”

The artist sighs. She has a point. He could bring up, why not make the first move, but that is also a 

“I mean,” Sana jokes, “I doubt you did anything more except writing sad songs and paint about your feelings. Should’ve done something about it.” 

Jaehyuk’s request immediately flashes through his mind. The elder is stupid. So irrational for trying to get him to engage in something. He can imagine the warmth and comfort in their position, but also feel the confusion and frustration bubbling within him about the expectation that he had to be the one to engage in the change.

“WAS I SUPPOSED TO?” he exclaims exasperatedly, “He seemed perfectly happy with Junkyu, and there was no way I was going to be a homewrecker, especially if I didn’t know if my emotions were reciprocated.” He collects his thoughts for a moment, letting the passion simmer, “And even when he made things clearer, he was still dating Junkyu, and I couldn’t be selfish and just accept him.”

Sana eyes him curiously. “Men are stupid, and I don’t respect them,” he summarizes. 

“Jaehyuk is a man.”

“And I don’t respect him,” Asahi replies. (He loves him.)

** **** **  


The rest of the week continues very smoothly, filled with familiar, yet timeless adventures. They're forced together, for the most part, everyone else preoccupied with their families. Even in the house, they're supposed to share a bed, which again, is nothing new, but Asahi finds himself restless at night, staring up at the ceiling, very similar to the train ride over. And if he finds himself passed out on the couch during the day, nobody particularly questions him. When they're alone and Asahi not taking his four-hour naps, they drop by their favorite restaurants, a few of the owners remembering them as treasured regular customers and passing them free dishes. The taste and atmospheres are beautifully comfortable. One day, he does venture out to visit Yoshi, and the elder is also stuck in the whole Asahi should finally do something now that it's so clear where their emotions sit mindset. Their trio is tight-knit, and a part of him wondered whether or not he would tell the eldest, and the skater's teasing is enough confirmation. 

The constant reminders are not appreciated, especially seeing that Jaehyuk still had not mentioned his break up directly to Asahi. The elder has to figure himself out before he can actually do anything about it. As much as his heart may want to, his brain refuses to concede to whatever loops he's taking; the elder has to untangle it all, and maybe once all the knots are loose, the artist can jump in and help."

Regardless of whatever is going on between him and his best friend, Asahi and Jaehyuk crash different houses, even going so far as serving as proxies for Hyunsuk and Jihoon's families. It’s genuinely a pleasant time, except for the required socializing. Asahi can keep the pleasantries for a bit, but it seeps everything out of him. Jaehyuk doesn't push him when he curls up on the roof and stares out, either sketching or fiddling with his fingers, or doing nothing, that kind of space allowing him to recover from all of the socializing. 

Probably the most iconically, even as prospective second years, they do the thing where they go back to their high school to visit their friends. Minhyuk, Jaehyuk’s brother, forces him to dye his hair back dark. 

As sad as he is to see the orange go away, he totally gets it. After a few months of trying to maintain his own roots, Asahi had thrown in the towel, deciding to screw it and dye his hair back to its natural, dark shade. He’d been surprised that Jaehyuk hadn’t asked to do the same, but it also left him a bit fond, happy to see his work, even if it was now somewhat imperfect. 

The greetings are pretty standard, expectantly, everyone files towards Jaehyuk, asking about his accomplishments, and if he's doing as well as he predicted. The elder handles everything gracefully, shaking all of the hands offered, and barely flinching at the back pats. Oppositely, upon seeing him, the art teacher begs Asahi to stay so she can flaunt all of his accomplishments to the class, making him proof that entering the field one is passionate about is not entirely futile. All of the praise is admittedly overwhelming, but Jaehyuk tries his best to calm him down while he’s there with a comforting arm around his shoulders. 

He catches Jeongwoo and Haruto sitting close to each other, and Asahi, even against Jaehyuk’s strong counseling, can’t stop himself from jumping them from behind. It leads him to be chased around the track, the speedy Jeongwoo quickly catching up to him and throwing him to the ground. He should have known, with the two of them being his height at already 3 years younger than him. Today, Jeongwoo is a few centimeters under 180 and Haruto is too, too tall. 

With the elder out of sight, probably politely entertaining all of the staff some more, he decides to treat the younger (and his now boyfriend) to something.

Sitting at the edge of the track, the two boys splitting some ramen and drinks, Asahi spaces out and reminisces about school memories, when things weren’t so confusing. 

“So, when are you going to tell him you like him back?” Jeongwoo asks.

“Boyfriend,” Asahi immediately replies.

Haruto adds, in Japanese, “Liar. Mashi told me.”

“Excuse me,” he vaguely hears from the other boy, “This is rude.”

The artist circles his head around, unable to comprehend the situation. “He told you? And Yoshi too?”

“You should tell him soon,” the younger man teases, “The two of you have taken way too long.”

“Like you and Jeongwoo?”

“But who’s actually dating?”

“Hyung!” Jeongwoo yells, “Ruto and Sahi are purposely not talking in Korean!” Asahi looks up to see Jaehyuk making quick strides towards them, Yedam and Doyoung close behind him. 

Yedam is excited, telling him that he’d been making good money street performing and that someone had tried to pick him up for a feature on a rapper’s (a friend of Hyunsuk before he’d gone into the idol world) track. Asahi, happy for the distraction, asks for the link to the song because if it’s Rosie, it’s a job well done for him. 

Fingers find themselves rooted into his scalp, rubbing his head fondly. “I can’t believe you’ve done this,” Jaehyuk smiles fondly, “Jeongwoo’s going to think you were shit-talking him.” The artist does immediately freeze but doesn’t move away from him completely. 

Haruto presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. It’s a bit weird for Asahi, not used to the two of them being so affectionate with each other, but a part of his heart warms up at the smile that naturally falls on Haruto’s face, and the satisfaction flares up as he notices the red in Jeongwoo’s cheeks. “Because we were.” 

“Gross,” he mutters, “Pure and healthy romantic relationships.” When Jaehyuk’s movements in his hair still, Asahi also does nothing about it, even if the elder is the only exception to that sentiment.

** **** **  


On the day before they return, Asahi finally eats dinner with the rest of Jaehyuk’s family, including extended members. It’s the same as every year. He bows to every aunt and uncle and grandparent and it’s a nice, relaxing celebration. Except his energy is seeped out all too easily while talking to an uncle he’s forgotten he’s ever met, trying to justify that, hey maybe the United States is still the new dream mixed in with some contradictory nationalism. In order to not explode, he gulps down almost three glasses of wine, pouring the remnants of what he couldn’t drink into the potted plants. As he’s about to do it again, his best friend spots him and sidles up next to him, letting some of the attention be directed towards him. He smoothly switches their glasses and sips on the remaining red liquid. He's grateful for the buffer. 

However, as the bottles start going dry, the elder is pulled away by his brother to obtain more alcohol.

With the elder, going out in public is significantly more tolerable, however, the longer that he's away, the artist, after talking about his studies, his hobbies, and art on repeat, paired that oh so tiring man, is prepared to disappear. Luckily for him, everyone leaves right before eleven, which means, if the family is fast enough, they can clean everything up and get to bed before midnight. As he's dumping all of the dishes into the sink, he's very nicely pushed away by Jaehyuk's father.

"Go rest. You have to wake up early for your train."

Asahi protests, looking for his best friend, who still happens to be nowhere in sight. And that's what he justifies it as. 

"I have to fulfill my filial duties," he jokes. 

Mr. Yoon stares at him judgingly, "Now you want to be accepted into the family when you have to do work?" They argue back and forth for a bit until Mr. Yoon threatens to not drive them to the train station if Asahi doesn't rest up. After a firm, paternal squeeze of his shoulder, the artist is pointed up the stairs.

Comfortably full after a nice meal and soothed by a warm shower, after everyone has departed, he curls up in the middle of Jaehyuk’s bed, eyelids droopy. The sky has become dark and the moon high and bright in the sky. Even though he hasn’t been home for so long, the familiarity is easy on the eyes, bringing back fond memories of failed study sessions where Asahi would just draw small figures in the corners of textbooks while Jaehyuk seemed to easily process all of the information, flawed chess games where the elder would make his own rules, and quiet late-night talks about mindless thoughts. Even though he’s been away for so long, the sheets smell slightly of Jae, which soothes him more. 

As he’s on the cusp of sleep, the door behind him is shoved open loudly. 

“Let’s drink together!” Jaehyuk exclaims excitedly. His voice is accompanied by the clinking of what he can only assume to be metal cans and glass bottles.

Asahi only grunts, but it seems to be a sufficient response. “Aren’t you done after dinner?”

“Nope!” the elder says excitedly. “Imma get ready for bed first.” He nods into the pillow and waves goodbye. 

The elder eventually returns, lightly kicking his back. Asahi turns around, eyes somewhat peeled open, just to see him dressed in a familiar band tee.

He drags a hand out and pulls on a part of the shirt. “Is this mine?” On him, it’s usually oversized, but it fits Jaehyuk’s frame perfectly. The elder stares down at the gesture.

“I packed it.” When Jaehyuk turns to open the cans, he spots the bleach stain near the hem. 

“It’s definitely mine,” Asahi asserts, as he sits up, crossing his legs, “But it looks good on you, better than on me.” Mentally, he beats himself over letting his mouth run, but the other man seems unfazed. 

The elder quickly hands him a beer and takes a seat next to him. The artist places it in his lap, unopened. “I doubt it. You make everything you wear look good.” When Asahi takes a closer look at him, his gaze isn’t as steady, a familiar smell light in the space between them. 

“Did you and your brother drink more after everyone left?” he asks, ignoring the compliment.

Jaehyuk huffs but nods. “He told me I needed it,” the elder laughs in slight disbelief. He mumbles something under his breath, that sounds similar to a concession.

“And why did you need it?”

Jaehyuk shrugs. “A man can’t want to drink with his best friend?”

“Your brother tends not to be wrong,” the artist reasons, “We don’t do this often. And never here.” While Asahi’s general dislike of social drinking was one large deterrent, it was definitely also his inability to hold much alcohol that just told him to not drink.

So he watches as his best friend sighs, intakes more alcohol, and without hesitation, explains, “Junkyu and I broke up.” 

When Jaehyuk definitely finishes his can too quickly and goes directly for the soju, not bothering to pour any of it out, Asahi’s hand reaches out to pull the green bottle away from him. “Are you really that torn up about it?” he asks, drinking it himself. It’s hard, attempting to maintain this facade of ignorance, especially when he just wants to interrogate him on why he did such a thing and to know if it was for his sake. 

“Kind of,” he admits. The elder opens up another can of beer and taps its sides idly. “Do I have the right to be if I was the one to end it?”

And the artist lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. It’s all out there. Asahi collects his thoughts; Jaehyuk just drinks more alcohol. 

“Not sure,” he reflects, looking down the bottle’s mouth. “I’ve never been in a relationship, so I’m not super sure about the ethics of anything. Maybe you do? You spent a lot of time together, and a few months is still a pretty large portion of your time in university, so I think it’s fair for you to bookmark this romantic experience you had as a formative part of your life.” He pauses for a gulp, and continues, only to ramble more. “I mean it takes people what, three weeks to form a habit? That routine you had with him while he was around you is bound to be familiar, and a disruption in that comfort is understandably awkward.”

When their eyes meet again, his best friend seems to be deep in consideration but nods at his words. However, from his gaze, Asahi is sure he isn’t processing everything. “I don’t know; it happened really quickly.” He plops down on the bed and makes grabby hands towards the alcohol in Asahi’s hands. 

“Finish your can first,” he mutters. And without thought, the elder quickly finishes off the half can, somehow not splashing anything on his face. He takes the harder liquor and starts to pour it into his mouth. Maybe the artist had jinxed him because his aim is off and the liquid wets his chin; droplets course down the sides of his neck and onto the sheets beneath him. A few curses later, he takes the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up to clean himself off. 

Besides the toned torso, Asahi can’t help but notices the faded circles that litter his skin. There’s not many: one below his sternum, a set that looks suspiciously like fingerprints, and a pair on his hip bones. 

Confusion flashes through Jaehyuk’s expression until he realizes what the artist is looking at. “I bruise easily,” he summarizes. Lithe fingers suddenly trail down his torso, mindlessly tracing the marks. It’s a sufficient explanation, but the idea of something much more intimate weighs heavily in the atmosphere. Asahi follows the movements, mouth going slightly dry as the digits shift lower, close to the edge of his boxers. His gaze rips away and he takes the bottle back for himself. 

“We ended on understanding terms,” he hears behind him, “So maybe that made me feel better about the sex.”

Asahi has to bring his hand to his mouth, preventing the liquid from coming out of his mouth. “DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT,” he exclaims after swallowing. 

“Sorry,” the elder says, definitely not at all apologetic. 

Asahi’s back still faces him, not comfortable with closing that emotional gap. “But why break up with him?” he settles on asking. 

The answer he initially gets is a few taps to his back; eventually, he turns around, seeing his best friend with his arms open invitingly, shirt back in its place. “Lay down with me,” he requests. 

“Are you going to answer my question?”

“Soon. I want cuddles.” Jaehyuk pouts at him, eyes pleading. Asahi isn’t sure about what to do, and that hesitation must be clear in his eyes. “It’s just been a while.”

“I know,” he replies. He can feel his body leaning back in his direction, the potential warmth inviting, but common sense anchors him far enough from his desires. 

Jaehyuk sits back up and slowly pushes Asahi around to face him, any playfulness leaving his face. The artist lets him, not particularly sure of his motives. The elder’s hands rest comfortably on his knees and rub them comfortingly, telling him about what happened that evening. 

He and Junkyu were lying down next to each other and Junkyu asked him if Jaehyuk liked him to which replied with a strong assertion. And then, his boyfriend asked about Asahi, if those feelings extended to him. Jaehyuk had denied that adamantly, especially because he himself had a boyfriend, and thought that Asahi and Mashiho had something going on between them. Junkyu chuckled at that, observing how ridiculous Jaehyuk was being, citing their “failed” first date and how the two of them just have been really close friends. 

“He said he was sure I liked you,” Jaehyuk gently says, “And even then, he wanted to stay in the relationship. I wish I could have denied it, you know, told him that he was the only one for me, but that would be a lie. I couldn't do that to him, especially with all I’d been doing the last couple of weeks,” Again, Asahi lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding, but Jaehyuk seems to notice this time. His expression slightly sours with guilt and sadness, but he continues. “I told him about it; it wouldn’t be fair not to. It was pretty much the icing on the cake. Like I think I had some suspicions in the back of my mind that my feelings for you were more than platonic because a lot of it is-”

“Just how we are,” Asahi easily finishes, knowing that feeling all too well. 

Jaehyuk smiles a bit wistfully, “So I mean, I guess Junkyu was the one who really got me there.”

The artist nods understandingly. He can sense the sadness in the elder, and it, paired with the alcohol that’s started to settle in his system, opens him towards affection. His arms have minds of their own, pulling Jae to his chest as best he can. But his best friend uses his core to his advantage, and leans back, taking him with him. The artist braces his hands next to Jaehyuk’s head so they’re a safe distance away. 

“I was trying to comfort you asshole,” Asahi quips. 

Jaehyuk teasingly mimics him, but loosely rests his hands over the younger’s hips. “Then relax.” Both of them shift around from their spots until they’re just hugging each other, lying on their sides. And with the light patterns, the elder is tracing on his back, it’s not long before Asahi’s eyelids slowly sink down and he’s asking the elder to pull the blanket around them. 

“That requires us to sit up,” Jaehyuk points out. The artist quickly rolls away, able to get a hold of Junghwan, and getting off the bed. The other man stands in front of him, and it’s incredibly enticing to rest his chin over his shoulder, but the pink cow suffices well enough. “Weren’t we here to talk out my love life?” his best friend teases, doing as the artist had requested, pushing the blankets off a bit. 

Asahi nods in acknowledgment as he plops back into bed. “But that’s pretty much it, right?” The elder gets in right after, quickly collecting the smaller man into his arms. Asahi makes himself comfortable enough, the cow squished comfortably between them and lets his nose press gently against Jaehyuk’s pulse. 

“No,” he hears above him. 

The artist hums in acknowledgment. The arm was thrown over Jae’s chest moves to the melody of the song he’d been replaying in his ears. “Then what?”

“I love you,” Jaehyuk murmurs, “Not in just the friend way. But that romantic way.” Maybe in those cheesy movies or in a nice novel, there’s that tense moment, an arch of triumph for the two young lovers, as the two of them, stare intensely into each other’s eyes, emotions clear in each other’s expression. 

The space between them diminishes, as their lips brush, chasing something both had yearned for much longer than they had realized. The contact begins gentle but soon tumbles into something more intense. Passion sweeps the two of them away and-

Maybe. If Asahi wasn’t so encapsulated by the warmth around him and on the cusp of sleep, he would’ve had enough energy for that. 

“That is the opposite of platonic,” the artist simply observes.

A deep inhale. “And you?”

Asahi hums in agreement. “Emotions are weird but yeah. I think I love you too.”

“Really?” the elder says breathlessly. 

The artist scoffs. “What do you mean really? I told you to get yourself together, and then everything unfolded by itself. And now we’re here.”

“So we’re together now?”

Asahi chuckles airly and yawns. “Not right now are you crazy? You literally broke up with Junkyu last week like give it some time because we have things to figure out,” He nuzzles himself in deeper (alcohol is dumb), “I’ll let you know in the morning.” 

Jaehyuk nods above him, understandingly. “But you love me?” he asks, hugging Asahi closer to his chest. 

“I just said that.”

“Just making sure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be the end for sure!! hopefully it won't take too long!

**Author's Note:**

> if you read to the end,, thank you so much!  
> feel free to drop a kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed it so far!!
> 
> yell @ me, befriend me, or both [on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/hxt-pxckets) or [on insta](https://www.instagram.com/hxt_pxckts/)


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